


Love My Way

by icelovesfire



Category: That '70s Show
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-06-19 00:58:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 58,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15498747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icelovesfire/pseuds/icelovesfire
Summary: The year is 1982, and life has brought the friends from the basement in different directions, especially Jackie and Hyde. When Kitty Forman decides to throw an anniversary party for her and Red and get all her chickens back in the nest, what will happen with the two former lovers? J/H E/D K/B R/K F/? (**Originally published on ffn, 13 June 2017.)





	1. Chapter 1

_After careful consideration, I decided that I should probably get one of these._

_*All author’s notes from chapters 1-8 can be found on ffn.*_

Xx

Chaos. The place was utter chaos. Nobody was following orders; he'd had to yell "Cut!" more times than he was happy with - and not the good kind of "Cut," where you could leave satisfied you'd just shot something worthy of a Golden Globe. He'd been so frustrated, he spilled soup on his brand-new blazer at lunch and now he really needed a damn drink.

Or coffee. Coffee would suffice. Where the hell was that intern with his damn coffee?

"Jacqueline! Has anyone seen Jacqueline?" the balding man hollered.

“Here! I'm here!" replied a petite brunette as she ran to give the older man his coffee of choice.

“Thanks, dear. You're a doll," Alan Pultz told the production assistant with a grateful look and a large swig of the caffeinated beverage, before returning to the cast that better start following his orders soon, or there would be hell to pay.

"Jackie!"

A whirl hurled itself at her, nearly knocking Jackie Burkhart to the ground as she was pulled into an almost bone-crushing hug.

"Michael!" came an exasperated voice from the other side of the building.

Jackie peeked over Michael Kelso's shoulder and smiled as she saw Michael's pregnant and very tired-looking wife, holding Jackie's sleeping goddaughter.

“Michael," Jackie laughed, trying to squirm out of her ex's strong grip.

"Woah," Kelso said, his jaw dropping. "Who's that? She's hot!"

"Hello to you, too," Jackie said.

"Michael!"

"Don't worry, babe. You're hotter, of course, but you've got to admit, she's pretty hot."

Brooke Kelso looked at the woman in question and sighed. "Yeah, she is."

"Isn't this woman fantastic?" Kelso grinned, looking at Jackie as he wrapped an arm proudly around his wife.

"She is. And you're still a pig," Jackie laughed.

"Hey!"

"Thanks, Jackie," Brooke smiled.

"But seriously! Who is she?"

"That's Demi Moore," Jackie replied. "And I can tell you right now she won't be interested in you."

"Hey, I'm a one-woman man now. But if God hadn't wanted me to look at other women, he wouldn't have made them so hot. And damn! Is she hot."

"I'm not going to introduce you."

"Aw, come on, Jackie, please?" he pouted.

"You know that's not going to work, Michael. I like _invented_ the puppy dog pout. It only works when I do it."

"She's right," Brooke told her husband with an apologetic grin. "Jackie's the master."

"Hey!"

"Why thank you, Brooke," Jackie grinned at the older girl. "Now come here!" she demanded, pulling her in for a hug. "I haven't seen you in ages! Why don't you come visit me more?" she pouted.

“Hey, don't give me that. You could've come to Chicago over spring break, but you hung out in San Diego with your college friends instead."

"It was cheap! And close! We can't all fly through college, graduate earlier than planned, and have a job at The Newberry waiting for us."

"She really is something," Kelso said, looking at his wife with the usual awed expression he wore when he was around her. Michael Kelso might be the most vain person Jackie had ever met - which was saying something, she knew, as her younger self had been just as vain - but it was clear even he had the decency to be amazed why someone as brilliant as Brooke Rockwell would choose to live the rest of her life with him.

"Oh. my. god!" Brooke exclaimed. "Rick Springfield!"

Sure enough, the creator of her current favorite song was standing just a few feet away, draped in a pristine lab coat and talking to an older woman dressed in a nurse's costume.

"Oh yeah," Jackie giggled. "Did I forget to mention Rick was filming today?"

"Uh, yeah!" Brooke glared, patting her hair down and smoothing out her dress as she kept an eye on the Australian heartthrob.

Jackie knew she had been listening to _Calling All Girls_ non-stop for weeks, mostly because a frustrated Michael had complained to Eric, and Eric - who really couldn't keep a secret to save his life - had told Donna, and then Donna had told Jackie.

"Right here. I'm right here," Kelso told his wife, clearly annoyed.

Brooke looked at him. "And the really hot Demi Moore is over there, so," she said, pointing to where the young girl sat in a diner chair, drinking from what was almost certainly an empty mug.

"Aw, come on," he replied, looking like a kid who had just been caught trying to secretly give his teacher the bird.

"Hey, if God didn't want me to look at Rick Springfield, he wouldn't have made him so hot."

"BURN!" Jackie said.

Kelso frowned, then grinned. "Yeah, that's a really good burn."

"Maybe one of these days, Brooke will be the Burn Master," Jackie told him.

"I'm the Burn Master. Brooke can be the Burn Queen."

"Works for me. Historically, a queen is better than both a master and a king," Brooke said.

"Girl power!" Jackie said.

"No fair. I'm surrounded by chicks," Kelso whined.

"And Miss Moore is over there talking to Tristan Rogers, so you don't stand a chance with her, anyway."

"I'm just looking! God, Jackie!"

"Jacqueline! Jacqueline, darling, can you copy these scripts for me?" an older woman with a curly pixie cut and domineering presence said as she came up to them with a stack of papers and a voice straight out of a classic Hollywood film. "Then you may go."

"Yes, of course, Ms. Monty."

"Fantastic! Thank you, darling!" Gloria Monty's gaze traveled over the three and onto the set where Demi Moore was sitting with Tristan Rogers. "Geary! Get back on set!"

The actor in question turned and, with a sigh, rejoined his co-stars.

"This won't take long," Jackie told her friends as she rifled through the scripts. "I'll be right back. Can you wait for me outside?"

"Of course," Brooke said as she watched the brunette hurry away on her Yves Saint Laurent multicolor wedgies.

"Come on, Michael," she told her husband, shifting a now wide-awake Betsy in her arms.

"Coming, babe," Kelso said, draping an arm around her and their daughter as they turned to leave the set.

"And cut! Fabulous! Five-minute break, and then get back to work," Alan Pultz told the cast behind them.

There was a flurry of activity as various actors, actresses and crew members headed over to the refreshments table.

"Who are you?" asked the woman who the Kelsos now knew as Demi Moore.

"Michael Kelso," he said with a proud, narcissistic grin. "I know I'm beautiful, but I'm kind of taken at the moment."

"At the moment?" Brooke hissed.

"That's nice," Demi told him with a flippant gaze and a toss of her hair. "You're in my way," she pointed.

"Oh. Sorry," Kelso blushed as Brooke laughed.

"Hey!"

"That's what you get for telling her you were taken _at the moment_."

"Aw, come on Brooke, I was just kidding."

"Wow. Who's the babe?" asked Rick Springfield, as he came up to them and looked Brooke over with an appreciative grin.

"That's _my wife_ ," Kelso glared at the rockstar.

"Brooke Kelso. I'm kind of taken at the moment," Brooke introduced herself, managing to hide her glee at meeting the singer. Kelso supposed the numerous artists Hyde had introduced them to had given her a calm exterior when it came to meeting one of her favorites.

"Rick Springfield," he said, taking her hand and planting a kiss on her smooth skin.

"I know," Brooke smiled.

"Well, lovely Brooke Kelso, if you ever decide to ditch the bogan with the Farrah hair, here's my number," Rick said, handing her his card.

"Farrah hair? Excuse me! If I look like any of the Charlie's Angels, it's Jaclyn Smith! And I _definitely_ don't look like a bogey."

" _Bogan_. Whatever you say, Farrah," Rick said as he winked at Brooke and walked away to speak with Jackie Zeman.

"Taken _at the moment_?" Kelso glared at his wife.

"Hey, if you don't want me to repeat it, don't say it in the first place."

"Man, being a one-woman man is so hard," Kelso said.

"But you wouldn't trade it for the world," Brooke said, knowingly.

"Not for the world," he conceded, giving her a kiss over their daughter.

"You two really need to get a room," Jackie said as she returned from giving the script copies to Gloria Monty.

"Well maybe if you would hurry up, we could get back to the hotel and _get a room_ ," Kelso told her.

"Pig!" Jackie said.

"I like to think of myself more as a man who just really enjoys his wife."

"That's obvious," Jackie said, nodding to the little girl in Brooke's arms and the protruding stomach under Betsy.

"Godmommy!" the little girl said, extending her arms towards Jackie.

"Hello, my darling!" Jackie told her favorite little person. "How is my beautiful Betsy?"

"Good! We went on a plane that took us allll the way from Cago to Godmommy!" the three-year-old girl said as she threw her arms out in the air to indicate the exact distance from "Cago" to Los Angeles.

"Did you really? Wow! That's amazing!" Jackie said as the three adults and Betsy left the set and headed toward the parking lot. She managed to sneak out one arm under Betsy to wave goodbye to Lola, the early thirtysomething receptionist who smiled and waved back as she smacked her gum and told the person on the other end of the line to "spill all."

"Yeah!" Betsy said, nodding her head vigorously. "And I got a bag of apple slices and evewything!"

“She's excited about apple slices," Kelso muttered, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "She's definitely your daughter, Brooke."

"And our youngest is very fond of sugary snacks," Brooke told Jackie as she reached out one hand to rub her daughter's back. "We swear he's part Fez."

"It's genetic transmission! Fez touched her that one time, and he gave the kid, like, _pomosis_."

“You mean osmosis," Brooke laughed.

"Yeah. That. Osmosis. Like my brilliant, sexy and super hot wife said, Fez gave our kid _osmosis_."

"I don't think that's possible," Jackie said with a giggle.

"It's possible, man. That kid's going to dress up as Batman in high school and demand candy from strangers."

"Michael, _you_ dressed up as Batman and demanded candy from strangers last week."

"It was Betsy's half-birthday, Brooke! You always celebrate your kid's half-birthday!"

"Dressed as Batman?" Kelso frowned.

"You swore you wouldn't tell anybody."

"And I didn't! Jackie isn't just anybody."

"That's right! I'm not just anybody! Should I tell Brooke about the time I put makeup and a dress on you and we danced in my bedroom before Daddy caught us and strangled you?"

"You already told her," Kelso reminded his ex. "The night I asked her to marry me and you wanted to make sure she knew what she was getting into if she said yes."

"Oh yeah," Jackie giggled. "And she did say yes, for some reason none of us will never understand. So you better not screw it up."

"Hey!"

"He won't. Michael quit his job at the Playboy Mansion."

"What?" Jackie gasped. "No way! You were so happy there!"

"Eh. The girls kept coming onto me and it was annoying Brooke."

"More like the girls were annoyed you kept asking them to do a threesome with us and you quit before Hugh fired you."

"Damn, Brooke, why don't you tell Jackie about the time I broke Betsy's crib, too!" Kelso said, only somewhat irritated at his wife's inability to keep a secret.

"She already knows."

"Okay, this whole wife-and-ex-being-besties thing is really killing my mojo."

"But you secretly love it because otherwise you wouldn't have a reason to visit California twice a year," Jackie said, balancing Betsy on her hip as she felt around in her pocket for her keys with her free hand.

"Ah. Yeah. Good point," Kelso conceded. "Here, let me take her," he said, picking his daughter up out of Jackie's arms.

"Daddy!" Betsy called, snuggling into her father's protective embrace as she cuddled with Jackie's old unicorn.

She had given her old friend to the girl on Betsy's second birthday, and the two had been inseparable ever since.

"Anyway, he's back at the police academy," Brooke said, wrapping an arm around her husband and daughter.

"Yeah," Kelso nodded. "And I won't be the stooge this time. Or burn down the academy. Or lie about my grades."

"I'm surprised you even got back into a police academy," Jackie said.

"I know!" Kelso said with a mischievous and secretive grin.

"He begged and pleaded until they felt sorry for him."

"Dammit, Brooke!"

"Aha!" Jackie said, producing her keyring with the pink fuzzy dice. "Let's go. LA traffic is a bi -" she looked at Betsy - "...bitter nightmare. How did you guys get here, anyway?"

"Took a bus," Kelso said.

"You took the bus from LAX to Studio City with a pregnant woman and a three-year-old girl?"

"Uh...actually, we took a bus from San Diego International to Studio City," Kelso confessed.

"Michael!" Jackie said, smacking his shoulder.

"Ow! Hey! It was cheaper!"

"Mommy! Godmommy hit Daddy! But you said I can't hit Daddy!"

"You can't hit Daddy, sweetheart," Brooke said.

"But Godmommy hit Daddy! Why can't I hit Daddy?"

"If you hit Daddy, Daddy will never play tea party with you again," Kelso said, looking at his daughter.

Betsy considered this for a good few minutes more than Kelso was comfortable with, then nodded.

"Okay. I won't hit Daddy."

"And Godmommy won't hit your daddy again either, sweetie," Jackie told the little girl, although all three adults knew she was lying.

"Okay, good," Betsy said, tucking her head back under her father's chin.

"What about that flight I checked into for you? I know that was cheaper to LAX than a ticket wtould be to San Diego."

"Uh, that," Kelso said, sheepishly. "I kind of...forgot to book it."

"Michael!"

"No hitting! You promised Betsy!" Kelso said as he made a dash for Jackie's backseat.

Jackie shook her head and helped Brooke into the passenger side before taking her place at the wheel.

"You know, I really don't need help -" Brooke started.

"I only see you guys a couple times a year. Let me have this," Jackie said.

Brooke sighed. "Okay, you win."

"I always do," Jackie grinned, checking her rear-view mirror before pulling out of the parking lot into the line of cars that would hopefully move at a quicker pace than the six hour wait of last weekend.

_Well, except at one thing._

XO

It was times like these he wished he still got high.

How hard was it for a band to come in, record an album, get through every song and leave after a productive day _without_ the lead singer walking out in the middle of the recording?

Tiny Grasshopper's lead singer really needed to get his act together soon, or Steven Barnett would have to give him the pink slip.

But, knowing firsthand the kind of consequences that Gil would have to face if his attitude didn't shape up, Steven was tempted to wait a little longer to make the call.

Bud Hyde had been a failure, a mess of a man who let his life go to hell, left his kid and his woman and drank what little finances he had away. Steven Hyde hadn't been much better, always partying, always getting high, marrying a woman he barely knew after a one-night stand, disappointing everyone in his life. And the only reason he wasn't in the slammer was because of the family who took him in when he was a 16-year-old kid pretending he could survive on his own.

But Steven Barnett, Steven Barnett was the founder and CEO of Fighting the Man Records, the co-manager of Grooves, the pride and joy of the Barnett clan, and a happily married man with three kids -

He laughed. Okay, so maybe he wasn't a father. Truth be told, he wasn't even married. He wasn't much into the dating scene these days - never had been if he was honest. A casual fling here, a roll in the sack there. There were a few months in '81 when he thought he could have something more, but then she cheated and he took her back. He had cheated and been taken back before, it was only right.

When she cheated on him again only a couple months later, that was it. A second chance was fine - he'd been given plenty over the years - but he didn't do third chances (except where Gil was concerned. Lucky bastard was on his fourth.)

So Jules was out of his life, and he was back to considering a life of perpetual bachelorhood.

"You're only 22," his older sister had reminded him when he mentioned it at their last family dinner.

"So? Bachelorhood looks good on me," he shrugged. "No ball and chain. Total freedom, man."

"I bet you'd have a completely different view if the ball in chain was one Jackie Burkhart."

He glared. "Ang, are you still on about that, man? Ancient history."

"Mhm. If it was ancient history, you wouldn't have given me that look."

"You're evil."

"All the best big sisters are," she told him with a smirk.

Having a sister was something he still wasn't used to. He'd gotten a taste of it with Laurie Forman, but, well, as Eric was so fond of saying, she was the devil and therefore, not the best example of a loving older sister.

Oh, Angela Barnett was also the devil, but she was a much more mellow version. Angie was the devil if the devil sat around in the Circle eating candy stolen from Fez. Laurie, though, she was the Devil that haunted your nightmares and made you cuddle with those stupid stuffed animals Jackie used to have all over her room.

Dammit. Why the hell was he thinking about her?

He hadn't seen the tiny brunette since she'd left for Madison with Eric and Donna on Valentine's two years ago. He'd only heard bits and pieces about her life since then, whatever he managed to overhear from his friends before he walked into the room and they hastily changed the subject, _every damn time_.

He knew she had been in the communications program at Madison for the first year, then transferred to school somewhere in California, he was pretty sure. UCLA, maybe. Or was it Berkeley? She seemed to be doing well in her classes, and had apparently gotten an internship in TV or something. He wasn't quite sure; Kelso had barely gotten it out before he walked into the room.

Oh, she'd been there for the Kelso wedding last spring, of course, but his attention had been on Jules and she'd headed back to - Santa Barbara? - almost immediately following after apologizing to a dismayed Mrs. Forman. Donna had said she had needed to get back to classes; he was pretty sure there was more to it than that.

He heard a knock on the door and called out in relief, glad to have a distraction from thinking about the woman he had lost years ago.

"Mr. Barnett?" said a kid of no more than 16 with more acne than any kid should ever have to deal with.

"Mr. Barnett is my father. Call me Hyde," he responded. He had become Steven Barnett in the business world, but even though he had considered legally changing his name, he knew he needed to keep it as a reminder of who he used to be.

So he had stayed Steven Hyde outside work, and the name reminded him of the kid he'd been who had lost two really shitty parents, but gained a brother, a devil of a sister, the kind of mother most kids only dreamed of, and two fathers - one who was cool and rocked hard; the other, serving the tough love no kid wants but every kid needs.

"I don't think so. Mr. Barnett is his grandfather," said William Barnett, entering his office behind the kid. "Don't you dare call me Mr. Barnett."

"Yes, sir. Mr. Barnett, sir. I mean - um."

"Just call me Mr. Steven Hyde's Very Young Father," WB said, looking at his son out of the corner of his eye.

Hyde stifled a laugh, glancing at the poor kid. "What was it you wanted?"

"Well, I was going to tell you that Mr. Barn - Mr. Steven Hyde's Very Young Father is here, but you already know that, so...yeah, I'll go now."

"Thanks for the warning," Hyde said as the kid left.

"So, this is your office," WB said, looking around with an awed expression.

"You say that like you weren't just here two weeks ago."

"What can I say? I'm still surprised that you even have an office. _Willingly_."

Hyde shrugged. "It's not so bad. But then, we are Fighting the Man."

WB smirked. "Man, that is still the coolest name for a brand I've ever heard. And _my son_ came up with it."

"Well, Ang helped. A little."

"Telling you that showing up late to open Grooves did not mean you were fighting the man hardly qualifies as helping you think of the name for your record label."

"Maybe not, but I wouldn't have had the idea if she hadn't said it."

"My son, following in his old man's footsteps and founding a record label. Now you have the label, and I have the record stores. The Barnetts are infiltrating the music industry, one by one."

"Next stop: show biz," Hyde joked.

"Well, that Fez kid is on Broadway."

"He's not _on_ Broadway, WB. He _works_ on Broadway."

"Whatever he does, it's still weird."

"Yeah, it is," Hyde agreed.

His little foreign friend had shampooed a client in the hair salon back home who turned out to be some big Broadway star. She'd been so impressed, she demanded her bosses hire him as a hairstylist, and next thing everyone knew, Fez was moving to New York City to style the hair of some really hot chicks.

And in-between shows, he worked as a tour guide at a candy factory.

Man, Fez really was living his dream.

"You ready to go?" WB asked, glancing out the window at the dark clouds rolling in. "Looks like rain."

"Forecast says it might hail," Hyde responded, pulling on his leather jacket.

"Good thing you're not driving to Wisconsin until the weekend."

"Yeah," Hyde agreed. "It's bad enough driving from St. Louis to Point Place in _good_ weather."

"I still can't believe you left Chicago for St. Louis."

"What can I say. I missed you guys."

"Aw! Look at our little Steven getting mushy over his family," Angela Barnett said as she entered her little brother's office.

Yep. A mellow devil.

"Shut up," Hyde said.

"Are we going to this thing or not?"

"Oh, we're going. Your aunt will give me a good swift kick in the shin if we don't go. And, _man_ , can she kick."

A lot like someone else Hyde once knew.

"Well, come on, then!" Angie said as she literally pushed both her father and brother out the door and down the hallway to the elevators.

"When did my little girl get so strong?" WB asked, amazed.

"It's all those jiditsu classes," Hyde told his father.

" _Jujutsu_ ," Angie corrected. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to come to a class once or twice."

"Nah, man, I'm cool," Hyde said, pushing her hand off his back.

"Okay then. If you want to remain a weak sapling, be my guest."

"' _Weak sapling_?'" Hyde said, incredulous. "Who brought Grandma's new couch up _three_ flights of stairs last week?"

"You," Angie said in a bored tone. "But you had help from Uncle Eddie."

"Hey!"

"Am I going to have to separate you two?" WB asked, grinning like he always did when his two kids fought. Most dads would yell, but WB was just happy he _had_ two kids to fight with each other.

"He started it!" Angie said.

"Me? You're the one who called me a damn weak sapling!"

"And you can't even say Jujutsu! How hard is it? Joo-joot-soo. Jujutsu!"

"Maybe I don't want to say Jujutsu!"

Somewhere in all the bickering, they'd made it to the limo WB had rented for the occasion.

It wasn't every day your niece got married to the governor's son.

At least, that's what his older sister kept reminding him.

And somehow, some way, his son had agreed to wear a monkey suit for the big event.

But then again, Betty Lou could order around the Devil himself. His son really hadn't stood a chance.

"Hey! She just slapped me!" Hyde said, rubbing his shoulder and glaring at his sister.

"You _know_ I _hate_ being called Angel!" Angie seethed, slapping him again.

"Quit it!" he yelled.

"That's it! I'm sitting in the middle," WB told the fighting siblings as he took his place between them.

Angie looked over from WB's other side and stuck her tongue out at her brother.

Hyde rolled his eyes behind his glasses and lay his head back against the seat, trying not to think of the dreaded thing he'd be forced into later.

Not that he had much of a choice.

XO

"That's right. Six o'clock at the Kenosha Hotel on Saturday. You'll be there, right? Excellent! Thank you, Cheryl! I can't wait to see you again!" the older woman said, clapping her hands with a squeal as she placed the phone back in its spot on the wall.

"I still don't understand why we're even having this thing," the balding man sitting across from her said as he looked up from the sports section of his newspaper.

"Reginald Albert Forman! Thirty years ago, I bumped into you at the USO dance and your life was changed forever," his wife told him with a scowl.

"But, Kitty," Red Forman said, trying to make his wife understand, "celebrating the anniversary of the day you met is weird. Nobody does that. That kind of thing is for hippies and hooligans. And Eric."

"Red Forman! My babies are all scattered around the country and this party is going to bring them back under my roof. So we _will_ celebrate the day we met, and you _will_ enjoy it."

"Kitty. The point of retirement is to enjoy life _without_ six mopey teenagers-turned-six mopey adults hanging around the house and stealing my beer from the fridge."

"You pretend all you want, Red Forman, but I know you miss our kids. Especially Jackie."

"I don't miss people," he grunted, but Kitty knew she had struck a nerve by mentioning the Loud One.

She was happy Jackie was exceeding in the communications program at UCLA and had gotten an internship as a production assistant at _General Hospital - yes, that_ General Hospital, Kitty excitedly told family, friends, and strangers she met on the street - _my girl is working alongside Genie Francis, Tony Geary and Stuart Damon! Oh, wasn't he such a divine prince in_ Cinderella? _Can you believe it? My baby, working on the set of a show whose fans include Princess Diana and Sammy Davis Jr.!_

But Jackie living so far away in Los Angeles didn't sit well with her. Neither did Eric and Donna living in Seattle. Or Steven living in St. Louis. Or Fez living in New York. Or Laurie living God knew where.

Only Michael and his bride lived somewhat close by in Chicago, and Kitty was more than happy to entertain them every other weekend, much to her husband's chagrin.

Children were supposed to grow up and live down the street from their parents. Or, better yet, right next-door.

Oh, these horrid eighties. What happened to a time when everyone was broke and no one could move anywhere?

Now life had scattered her children, and it took an occasion like this to lure them all back home. Even the Kelso wedding hadn't included everyone - it was Broadway's busy season and a very apologetic Fez hadn't been able to get away from work. It had taken about 16 bags of candy before Michael had forgiven him - albeit, half-eaten bags of candy.

But, now. Now, Jackie would be flying in with the Kelsos and Betsy on Friday night, Steven would drive in on Saturday, Fez's plane would arrive on Saturday afternoon, Laurie would hopefully show up at some point, and Eric and Donna…

Eric and Donna, why, they'd be back home in a matter of hours.

Kitty smiled and hummed an old song from her youth as she prepared the mixture for a batch of her famous chocolate chip cookies.

 _"I'll be seeing you, in all the old, familiar places,"_ came a voice behind her, singing softly in her ear.

"Oh, Red," she sighed, a happy smile playing across her lips.

The usually gruff man continued singing softly as he took her hands and waltzed her around the kitchen.

Husband and wife were so lost in his baritone that they didn't hear the sliding door open behind them.

"Mom? Dad?"

"Eric! Donna!" Kitty squealed, quickly running over to her son and his wife.

She had at first been really upset and threatened to never speak to either of them again when they had confessed they'd eloped last fall. But, after Donna had managed to break through Kitty's rant that _That redheaded harlot took my baby boy away to Seattle and then she made him elope so I couldn't even come to his wedding!_ and they had informed her that they eloped to avoid getting cold feet again like their first wedding, she had understood.

Somewhat.

Well, she'd forgiven them, in any case.

"What are you doing here?" Kitty demanded, letting go of the tight hug she had both of them in. "We were supposed to pick you up from the airport this evening!"

"We took an earlier flight," Donna told her.

"And we didn't want Dad driving all the way to Kenosha," Eric finished.

"Fine with me. I was going to make you pay for gas," Red said, joining his wife and son.

"Gee, thanks, Dad," Eric said, sarcastically.

"Hey, if you're going to move all the way to Seattle and make your poor mother cry, then you're damn well going to pay for the gas when we pick you up in Kenosha."

"Missed you too, Dad."

"Don't be a pansy. Donna! How's my favorite daughter-in-law?" Red said, turning to the redhead.

"Your only daughter-in-law," Eric said.

"Until Steven gets married," Kitty said.

"Uh, Mom, hate to break it to you, but I'm pretty sure Hyde will never get married."

"Oh, psh. He will. He just hasn't found the right girl yet."

"He found the right girl. He lost her," Donna told her mother-in-law.

"Well, maybe this party can repair their broken hearts."

"Kitty, no. We are not having this damn party if you're using it to get Jackie and Steven back together."

"I'm not!" Kitty insisted. "I can't be held responsible for whatever God decides to do."

"Kitty."

"But if they happen to run into each other, and chat for a bit…"

"Kitty!"

"I'm not doing anything!"

Eric laughed and kissed his mother's cheek. "It's good to be home."

"Then maybe you should come home more often!" his mother said with a glare.

Eric sighed. "Mom, you know how expensive it is."

"I do. Which is why you shouldn't have moved to Seattle in the first place."

"Mom!"

"Donna! Let me look at you," Kitty said, taking the girl's hands and ignoring her son. "You look fantastic!"

"Thank you," Donna smiled, looking at Eric.

"She really does," he said, grinning at his wife.

"Any morning sickness?" Kitty asked.

"Not since the first trimester. Now it's just Eric getting sick."

"About that. Mom, did you _have_ to send us that labor video? It's disgusting!"

"Eric Forman! Childbirth is not disgusting! It's the beautiful miracle of life!"

"Well, nobody needs to record it. Ever."

Donna laughed and kissed her husband.

"Not in my kitchen!" Red said.

"It's _really_ great to be home," Eric said, snagging a freshly baked chocolate chip muffin from the array of home cooking Kitty had on the table.

"And it's really great to have you home," Kitty said.

And it would be really, _really_ great when her other six kids were home.

Soon. Only a few more days, and then she'd have them back under her roof.

And then she might release them back to their respective cities.

 _Might_.


	2. Chapter 2

It was like a scene from a disaster movie, one of those ones where a twister sweeps through and destroys half of the town, leaving devastation in its wake and a cleanup that lasts for decades.

Harried-looking staff were still putting the finishing touches on the pastel decorations, which actually weren't as garish as he had expected. A few women dressed in outlandish uniforms that clearly stated their career of choice stood nearby as they finished arranging several bouquets in varying shades - one for the bride and each of her bridesmaids, Hyde assumed. The choir was engaged in a quick final rehearsal, although he wondered how many times the old wedding march really needed to be rehearsed. (He recalled with a smile how Donna had refused the traditional tune and chose to walk down the aisle to Van Halen instead, although he knew Mrs. Forman would've preferred a more classic melody. His best friend of many years was seriously one cool chick who the man that had long before become his brother was lucky to have.)

In the midst of it all stood his aunt and younger cousin, the looks on their faces matching the chaotic atmosphere in a way that immediately made him realize something wasn't right.

Angie glanced around before shooting a look at her brother. "She doesn't look good," she whispered, probably for the best. Hyde knew that questioning the bride's well-being on her wedding day was practically treasonous and could easily invoke the wrath of a Bridezilla. Hell, if he had said that Donna didn't look good on her big day - a blatant lie, she was smoking hot, and he had said so to both her and Eric - he would've easily ended up in the emergency room, and Donna wasn't even the type of person to get upset over those girly things.

Weddings (and marriage) changed people, man, and not in a good way. All he had to do was look at the girl standing a few feet away from them to solidify his belief, especially since he could see that Ang was right. His normally together cousin was frazzled, her updo unraveling, waving frantically in the air as she talked animatedly with his aunt.

And Betty Lou Barnett, well, she was certainly not in her usual state of perfection.

"What happened?" Hyde whispered back. Wasn't the bride supposed to lose it during the marriage, not the day of her wedding?

"Uncle Will! Thank God you're here!" said a young teenage girl with tight, dark braids as she ran over to them.

"Junebug!" WB said, enveloping his favorite niece in an embrace. Oh, WB would tell you he didn't have favorites among his sisters' and brother's kids, but Hyde knew better. "What's going on?"

"Cass and Mother are going crazy," answered Juniper Jones, shaking her head as she glanced at those mentioned.

"I can see that," WB said. "Why?"

"Devon had to go on a last-minute business trip with his father and they got stuck in Denver on the flight back so Cass is convinced he won't make it for the wedding and Mother was trying to calm her down when the florist brought in the wrong color of flowers and the catering team forgot to not use strawberries in the punch - you know Devon's allergic - so then Mother lost it and now they're both a wreck and I can't get them to calm down," Juniper answered.

Hyde marveled at his little cousin giving WB the rundown without once taking a breath. He never understood how anyone could say that much that fast; he certainly couldn't, and was sure he didn't want to. But then, he wasn't really the talking type. Words were overrated, and you could say much by saying very little. When you said more, it was always the wrong thing, and then you were in trouble for something that could've been easily prevented if you had stayed silent.

"Ah, I see. I'll be back," WB told his kids with a sigh as he went to calm down his older sister and oldest niece.

"See, man?" Hyde murmured to his own sister. "This is why it's better to be single."

"I'm sure Jackie will think so too when she cries over the wrong food before she marries some random guy who probably owns a yacht and a penthouse in the city, or makes millions a day just by being in front of the camera," Angie said.

Hyde glared. For some reason he really couldn't understand, his older sister had taken a liking to his ex-girlfriend that awful year of 1980 and was constantly reminding him of what he lost when he was a dumb kid who ran off to Vegas instead of staying and letting Jackie explain why Michael Kelso was half-naked late at night in her motel room. Like he really needed the reminder when it had been lying in his bed for most of 1979.

And it wasn't like Jackie cared anymore.

"I know you're glaring at me," Angie said. "And take those damn things off. We're inside."

"Shut up," Hyde said, but reluctantly took off his sunglasses and hooked them onto the collar of his dress shirt.

"You would think one of these days, you'd get rid of those," Angie said. "I mean, you don't get high anymore so you don't need to hide druggie eyes and anyway, you live alone so it wouldn't matter if you did because no one is around to care." Wow, did she ever let up on this Jackie shit? Even when he had been with Jules, Ang had made her Team Jackie status painfully clear. "And there's no one for you to hide your real feelings from."

"I like them, okay?" Hyde said, who was now visibly irritated without his glasses to mask his emotion.

"Lame. When are you going to stop shielding yourself from the world and give life a chance? Go after what we both know you still want?"

It's a good thing he was never getting married. Angie would make her future sister-in-law question his fidelity with all her damn Jackie implications.

"In the year of none ya," Hyde said.

"Whatever, little brother. I just don't want you to wake up someday and regret your life because you pushed away everyone who might care about you just the teeniest bit."

"Aw, big sis, I didn't know you cared so much."

"Shut up," Angie said as Hyde smirked.

"Ang!"

Angie looked over as a cobalt blue dress and a mass of dark curls collided into her.

"Lia!" Angie said excitedly, hugging her birthday twin who also held dual roles as her cousin and best friend.

Adaliah Jones grinned and hooked an arm through Angie's. "Cass' perfect wedding is falling apart," she said.

"I know! Isn't it fabulous?" Angie replied.

Hyde couldn't understand the girls' animosity toward Cassie Jones. She had always been nice to him, welcomed him into the family instantly upon meeting and let him know she was available if he ever needed anything. But Ang and Ade couldn't stand her, and he could tell that Cassie felt the same about them.

He supposed it was due to some deep, dark traumatizing childhood event. Unfortunately, no one would spill the details, and this was one of those rare times where Hyde actually wanted to know.

"Hey, Hyde!" Adaliah said, grinning at her younger cousin.

"Hey, Ade," Hyde smiled. "How are things?"

"Good!" Ade replied, and Hyde knew she was telling the truth. Ade wasn't like most girls who said things were good when they were actually hellish. If Ade was in a bad mood, which she very rarely was, you'd know.

"Good," he said. Adaliah Jones had an infectious, warm personality that you couldn't help but be drawn toward. And the girl knew more about music than anyone, even WB. Hyde had taken an instant liking to her, and was pleasantly surprised that she had quickly returned the sentiment.

"I thought you were supposed to be in Point Place," Ade said.

"Not 'til this weekend. Auntie would skin me alive if I missed the big wedding," Hyde answered.

"Don't let her hear you call her that," Ade warned.

His aunt had insisted he call her Betty Lou, but the idea had truthfully terrified him. Betty Lou Barnett-Jones was the kind of intimidating presence that made you want to remember your p's and q's and spread your napkin on your lap before you got questioned about being raised in a barn, not the kind of person to be on a first-name basis with.

He knew his dad was just as intimidated by her, although WB would never admit it.

"She's too busy to care," Hyde said.

"Still," Ade said. "Hey, won't Jackie be there this weekend?" she asked, changing the subject.

Hyde wished that just one member of his family would hate his ex, for once. Ade had only heard of her from Angie, but that was all it took for her to hop aboard the Jackie Burkhart train.

"Probably," Hyde shrugged. "She wouldn't miss the Forman's big anniversary, especially since Mrs. Forman would never speak to her again if she did."

"I need to go to Point Place someday," Ade said, wistfully.

"You'd hate it. There's nothing there," Angie told her.

"But I have to meet these people you're always talking about. Jackie and Eric, Mr. and Mrs. Forman, Donna and Fez, Leo, Kelso and Brooke! Especially Brooke. She sounds like my kind of woman," her best friend replied.

"You talk too much," Hyde told Angie. His cousin only knew about any of those people - well except the Formans and Donna, as she'd managed to extract from him quite a bit of information about the other members of his family - from his sister.

"Hey, when your best friend dates a guy, you hear things," Ade said.

"Angie hasn't been with Kelso in years," Hyde said.

"And thank God for it, because he was a pig and only shaped up when he got with Brooke," his cousin replied.

"You _really_ talk too much," Hyde told Angie, shaking his head. What hadn't she told Ade?

"Maybe you should talk more," his sister snarked.

"No thanks," he answered.

"And I need to meet this Fez guy," Ade added. "I need to see for myself what Ang saw in him."

Hyde groaned. "Don't remind me."

In the spring of 1980, when Angie was single and Fez was fresh off his breakup with Jackie, the two had a fling. It only lasted for a couple months and neither had thought much of it since, but the memory would scar Hyde forever.

So of course he laughed when Fez's younger sister dropped by for a visit early that summer, got drunk and ended up in bed with an equally drunk Kelso.

And he hadn't stopped bringing it up to Fez since.

"He sounds so dreamy," Ade said. "So does this Brooke chick."

"You could come with me, if you want," Hyde said with a shrug.

"Really?" the older girl asked, her whole face lighting up. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Nah, man, it would be cool. Could use the company. Long, boring drive. Nothing to see but a shit ton of wheat."

"Then yeah, definitely! I'll finally get to see this place you and Angie hate so much! And meet your gorgeous goddaughter!"

Hyde may or may not have carried around a few pictures of Betsy Kelso in his wallet that Adaliah Jones may or may not have seen.

"Yeah, instead of staying away from the hellhole, you're going right to it," Hyde said, shaking his head at why anyone would willingly decide to visit Point Place, Wisconsin, unless their family was being threatened if they didn't and/or a gun was pointed to their head.

As much as he was looking forward to seeing the Formans, Donna, Betsy and his friends again, going back to the place of his worst nightmares - not in dreams, but in reality, and usually having to do with Bud - was something he was definitely dreading.

There was a reason he'd left there two years ago and moved to Chicago, after all. And, once he'd made the change and followed WB and Ang down to St. Louis, it meant he saw both Point Place and Chicago even less, something he was quite happy with.

Eric, Donna and Fez were on the other side of the country, and there was only so much gooey love crap from the Kelsos that he could take. Moving to St. Louis had been one of the best decisions he'd ever made, although he spent his childhood dreaming of running away to places like New York, San Fran or Canada and had never imagined staying around in the Midwest.

"Oh it can't be that bad," Ade said.

"Lia, when the Formans met Daddy, he was the first black person they'd ever seen outside of a TV set," Angie told her best friend.

"Then they could obviously use more color hanging around," Ade shrugged, not at all fazed by the conformity of Point Place.

"You're not gonna stick around for the wedding celebrations?" Hyde asked. Cassie and Devon had a week's worth of festivities planned like they were in ancient Rome or some shit.

"Hell no," Ade said. "One day. A wedding, a reception, dancing the night away, preferably to Zep. Bride and groom leave for honeymoon. That's how the Barnetts have always done it, but no, Cassie had to make a big spectacle and drag it out for no reason except that she wanted to be a drama queen."

Hyde didn't know what to say to that, and was relieved when he was saved from answering by the entrance of one of his only male cousins.

"Steven Hyde, my man!" said Marcus Barnett, greeting his younger cousin.

"Mark!" Hyde said. "Finally, someone with testosterone."

"I resent that. Don't be sexist," Ade said.

Hyde held up his hands in surrender. "Chill, man. I'm just kidding."

"How you been, brother?" Marcus asked.

"Can't complain," Hyde said. "How's the job?"

"Fantastic!" Marcus grinned. "Just got promoted."

"Awesome!" Hyde said. "To what?"

"Partner," Marcus replied.

"No way! You did?!" Angie squealed. "Oh, congratulations, Markie! That's fantastic!"

The only member of the Barnett clan whose life did not revolve around music in some way, Marcus was a lawyer in a prestigious St. Louis firm. The decision hadn't gone over well with his family; if you were born a Barnett, you either became a musician or band manager, owned record stores, founded a record label or married a famous musician. Marcus deciding to become a lawyer - and not a lawyer with famous musician clients, either - had thrown everyone for a loop.

But he had quickly risen through the firm's ranks, and now everyone was damn proud of him.

Well, except for Betty Lou, who insisted it was a waste of what she said was the best gospel voice she'd ever heard.

"Thanks, Ella," said Marcus as he accepted a hug from Angie. He'd called her the name since they were kids, and Marcus was the only one who Angie allowed to call her anything other than her name.

"Way to go, cuz!" Ade said.

"Thanks, Dali," Marcus replied, grinning.

"We need to celebrate," Angie said. "Let's go out for drinks before Stevie and Lia go to Wisconsin."

"Sounds good," Hyde said, as Marcus agreed.

"Uh, no, no drinks for you!" Ade told him.

"C'mon, Ade, I can have one."

"You're not breaking your sobriety on my watch," the older girl argued. "Nearly two years and you've had maybe three drinks. You can have a Coke."

Hyde groaned. Sometimes, it really sucked being the youngest member of the Barnett clan, besides Juniper, nine year old January, and the baby of the family, Andrew, who was actually, well, a baby.

"We'll all have Cokes," Marcus said.

Hyde gave him a grateful look.

"Fine, whatever," Angie said. "Just as long as we get to celebrate Marcus without Cassie being the center of attention for once."

"Speaking of," Ade said, looking around. "Where did she and Mother go?"

It was then that the four realized a breathless Devon had made it after all, Betty Lou was no longer in the middle of a breakdown, and the guests had started taking their seats.

"Shit!" Ade said. "Come on, Ang, let's go!"

With how much they hated Cassie, and how much Cassie didn't care for them, Hyde was amazed that she had asked them to be her bridesmaids, and even more shocked that Ang and Ade had agreed. But, taking their duties seriously, the two girls ran off in their matching cobalt blue to take their places in front of the big wooden doors that led to the sanctuary.

"I better get going, too," said Marcus, who was Devon's best man, having known his future cousin-in-law since the days of finger painting and PlayDough. "Talk to you later, bro?"

"You got it," Hyde said, letting the older man give him a pat on the back.

With a smile, Marcus headed up to the altar as Hyde took his seat next to his grandparents.

Shortly thereafter, the wedding began and Hyde watched as his father gave away Cassie Jones to Devon Murray.

He had never thought much of weddings, these big parties people made such a fuss over before locking themselves to a lifetime of hell and drunken fights. But, seeing how Cassie smiled at Devon and how he grinned back at her like he couldn't believe his almost wife was real, Hyde thought that maybe they weren't so bad.

He looked over and saw Betty Lou sobbing into her handkerchief as the grown-ass man next to her bawled, too.

Then again, maybe they were.

XO

"Damn, Jackie! Do you even eat?" asked Kelso as he popped his head out of her fridge with a scowl.

"Who has time to eat?" Jackie asked. "I usually grab a quick bite in the food court at work, then grab something with my friends for dinner."

"You could've shopped for us!" Kelso said, gesturing to her nearly empty shelves.

"There's a box of macaroni in the cabinet and a block of cheese in the meat drawer. Make yourself something," Jackie said dismissively.

Kelso stared at her, as if trying to telepathically communicate with his ex: _Damn, woman,_ _you know I can't cook!_

"Relax, Michael," Brooke said, wrapping her arms around her husband's shoulders from behind. "We'll just order a pizza."

"Oh no," Kelso answered, turning around to face his wife. "You're not eating pizza."

"Brooke can have a pizza if she wants to have a pizza," Jackie said, glancing at her friends as she sifted through the day's mail, or really just a stack of bills and advertisements. There were a couple of menus, which she set aside, but one would think that some of the ads would have the decency to attach coupons to the flyers.

When she was younger, she would've balked at the idea of using coupons. Now, as a career woman balancing school and what she was sure was the busiest job on the planet, she collected coupons like Donna's husband collected _Star Wars_ paraphernalia.

At least, until she made it in this world and could use her own hard-earned money to buy expensive, fancy caviar, escargot and trips to Paris. Because she would make it in this world, that she was sure of. Being a production assistant intern for the internationally-acclaimed _General Hospital_ was the best way to get your foot in the door.

"Thanks, Jackie. He's convinced there's something in the pizza that will hurt the baby," Brooke told her.

"Hey, whenever I eat pizza, weird things happen!" Kelso said.

"That's because you were usually high," Jackie said.

Kelso thought about it for a minute before his features formed into the goofy grin he always had when something clicked. "Oh, yeah!" He smiled at his wife. "Okay, you can have pizza."

"Good, because I was going to have it whether you let me or not," Brooke said.

Jackie smiled in her friend's direction as she saw Kelso frown. "Relax, Michael. Pizza doesn't make you high. It's getting high and then eating pizza that's the problem."

"I guess," Kelso said.

Jackie reached over for her phone and dialled the number she knew by heart. She put in an order for a few pizzas and pops, then hung up just before Betsy ran in and nearly collided into her in her excitement.

"Mommy! Daddy! Godmommy! Come watch TV wit me!" the little girl said as she grabbed Brooke's and Jackie's hands, and looked at her father.

"Let's go, Bets," Kelso said, reaching down and swinging his daughter up in the air. Betsy giggled while Kelso planted kisses on her cheek and Brooke watched them with a grin.

The two left to find a show to watch - more than likely _Silver Spoons_ , Betsy's new favorite program - leaving Brooke and Jackie the chance to talk.

"How are you, _really_?" Brooke asked her friend.

"I'm fine. Really," Jackie said.

"It's only been four months since he left," Brooke reminded her friend. "It's okay if you're not fine."

" _Really_ , I'm good."

It had been difficult the first few months, but as she threw herself into work and classes, she had slowly started to heal.

Jackie met Adam Han her first day at UCLA when he offered to help her navigate the confusing halls, so different from the ones at Madison. She figured in the ocean of people, she wouldn't see him or his intoxicating deep brown eyes again. Yet, when she entered her public speaking class later that day, there they were, blinking as their owner spoke rapidly with the professor.

It had been a year since her breakup with Fez, and she was happily living the single life. They developed a close friendship, but it took several months before Adam persuaded her into becoming more.

And it had been everything she never imagined having again after she lost Steven. Adam was wonderful, the perfect boyfriend. He didn't give her jewelry and he didn't take her horseback riding or to dinners in Paris, but that was okay. He wrote her poems just because he felt like it, took her paintballing and jet skiing and rock climbing, things she would've scoffed at when she was a girl, but things she ended up enjoying as much as he did. He told her he loved her when he knew, without trying to hide the sentiment at an attempt for masculinity.

And she loved him.

She loved that he taught her things that changed her previously narrow-minded view. She loved the smile he gave when she aced her second semester of classes, so big that it lit up his entire face. She loved his hatred for math and his passion for art. Most of all, she loved that he believed in her. Only one other person had ever believed in her the way Adam did.

He met the Kelsos once, during one of their annual visits, and Jackie was pleased that both Brooke and Kelso - especially Brooke - loved him, too.

When Adam was offered the job as investigative journalist for the BBC, he hadn't wanted to take it. Jackie said that was crazy, of course he had to take it, this was his dream and she wouldn't stand in the way of his dream. He'd be covering everything happening in West and East Berlin, the events occurring between the US and the Soviets. He couldn't pass that up, she said. She wouldn't let him.

So Adam had taken the job and they both knew it was the end. Oh sure, they could call, and they had, at first. But international landline charges were expensive and, more than that, there was the scathing time difference. When Adam could talk, Jackie was in work or in class; when she was available, he was asleep. Eight hours hadn't seemed like a lot, but the two quickly realized just how big an abyss it was.

As much as it hurt them both, they had decided to end things, amicably. Adam's voice shook as he whispered to her that he would always love her. Jackie's perfectly applied mascara streaked down her face as she told him she would never forget him.

And just like that, she was back to being a single woman whose life was thankfully so busy that she rarely had a moment to imagine leaving everything behind, moving to London and joining him.

"I miss him. Of course I do," Jackie said, "but it's not as intense now. I am really, truly fine."

Brooke smiled and hugged her friend. "I'm so glad to hear that." She hesitated as she considered whether to ask her next question.

"Go ahead. I know you're dying to know whatever it is," Jackie said.

"Are you...ready for this?" Brooke asked.

"You mean, going back?" Jackie asked.

Brooke nodded.

"Yeah, of course. I've missed Mr. and Mrs. Forman, Fez, Donna, Bob...and even Eric."

"That's not what I mean, Jackie."

"Oh, because Steven will be there?"

Brooke nodded again. "You didn't really get to see him at our wedding before you flew back."

"Yeah, whatever. That's ancient history," Jackie said. "I don't care. He can burn me all he wants. I'm still going to enjoy myself."

"Good," Brooke smiled. She liked Steven Hyde and appreciated his fondness for her daughter and friendship with her husband, but she felt rather protective when it came to his history with Jackie. And she had really liked Adam.

"I don't think he'll burn you, though," Brooke added as an afterthought.

"Of course he will," Jackie said. "Well, he won't. But he'll try."

The last time she spoke to her ex was over two years ago, when he told her being with the woman who claimed to be his wife made him feel things he'd never wanted to acknowledge before, whatever the hell that meant. She and Fez had called it quits only a mere two weeks previously, and she hadn't wanted to hear whatever it was that the stripper bitch had made Steven feel. With an eyeroll and a toss of her hair, she left the basement before he could say more and they hadn't spoken since.

Adam wasn't afraid to feel. Adam didn't need a lying gold digger to burn down his walls and allow him to love someone. Adam was perfect, but Adam was gone, and someday, Jackie might be able to move on and find someone else, someone who was as different from Steven Hyde as you could get. In the meantime, she was perfectly happy being single.

"He won't try," Brooke said.

"He will," Jackie insisted.

"He won't. Jules cheating really affected him."

"I can't believe that bitch cheated on Steven! Twice!" Jackie said. She might not trust Steven, or like him, but she could still care about him.

"Yeah," Brooke said almost casually, because while she felt for her friend, she had never liked his ex, "he's been...different, I guess."

"Sure," Jackie said.

"And you know he quit drinking. And smoking."

"Did he?" Jackie asked, nonchalantly. She didn't keep tabs on her ex, and there was a reason for that. She'd only overheard about his ex-girlfriend when Eric tried to whisper it to Donna the last time she had called the lumberjack. Even all these years later, Eric had yet to realize that he was a terrible whisperer, which of course boded well for Jackie, as it let her overhear all the gossip she shouldn't know.

"Yeah," Brooke nodded.

"Well good for him," Jackie said.

She was saved any further conversation about her ex-boyfriend when the doorbell rang.

"That'll be our pizza," Jackie smiled as she walked with Brooke to the door.

"That'll be $10.5 - wow! You're gorgeous," the horny teenager said as he looked up and saw both Jackie and Brooke.

"We know," Jackie said. "Here," she added, as she handed over the money for their food and an additional tip. Jackie had never been very good at tipping, especially tipping pizza boys, but being a struggling college student made her realize just how important it was, and she had made more of an effort to do so since.

Of course, knowing Adam's sister worked in the Indian restaurant down the street from Jackie's work and rarely received tips even with the place's elite clientele might've also had something to do with Jackie's change of heart.

She started to reach over for the pizza boxes when Michael suddenly showed up beside them.

"Allow me," he said, grabbing the boxes and pops with such ease that it was as if he had picked up a bouquet of flowers.

Jackie was shocked Michael had chosen to be so helpful until she saw the loving look Brooke gave her husband and the dorky grin Michael gave his wife in return.

The boy really had matured since being with Brooke. And while at first Jackie had been annoyed that his maturity came in his relationship with Brooke and Jackie had to deal with Michael the dog while Brooke got Michael the man, now she was genuinely happy for her friends that they found each other.

And even happier that they were giving her another godbaby, who she would spoil just as she did her beautiful goddaughter.

"Mommy! Daddy! Godmommy!" Betsy said, running to them and tugging at Jackie's hand. "Come on! You're missing the diamonds!"

"Diamonds?" Jackie asked, her ears perking up at the mention of what was still one of her favorite words, and, she considered proudly, Betsy's.

That wasn't exactly a surprise, since she had given Betsy the girl's first pair of earrings - tiny diamond studs that Jackie's father had given his only daughter when she got her own ears pierced. Brooke had told her that Betsy wore the earrings constantly and rarely allowed her mother to insert anything else.

"Yes, diamonds! They found diamonds!" Betsy said excitedly, referring to her program. "Come on! Maybe from Fwance!" she added as her eyes grew wide in excitement at the idea of seeing something from Paris on the TV.

Betsy loved anything and everything from France, even as a three year old. Jackie was a very proud godmother that her precious girl was already enamored with fashion as much as she was, which she was sure was due to the day she had taken Brooke and Betsy to the fashion show that UCLA was hosting, or the many picture books of fashion she had given the girl to combat Donna's presents of boring smart people subjects and Steven's gifts of rock and roll history.

Like her mother, Betsy loved and cherished any book that was given to her, but Jackie knew the little girl loved her gifts best.

She allowed Betsy to lead her to the sofa as Michael and Brooke followed behind. Jackie always treasured the moments like these, Betsy sitting on her lap, the little girl entranced by the TV as she cuddled into her, with Brooke and Michael sitting next to them.

Or, really, with Brooke lying down, head near Betsy as Michael massaged her feet. Yes, he was actually _massaging her feet_. Just wait until she told the others about this!

As a child, Jackie had grown up in a beautiful mansion, surrounded by the finer things in life, taught that you learned a person's worth by how much jewelry and fur coats they gave you.

She had everything a little girl could want. Everyone in her class was jealous of her indoor pool, world-class chef and maid service, which she would often gloat about. She'd been the popular kid at school since the first day of pre-K, when they all saw the chauffeur drive up in her father's prized Lamborghini. Yes, she had everything - except one thing.

She didn't have a family. She had a daddy who adored her, but was never around. She had a mother who loved her - she hoped, anyway - but didn't know how to show it outside of mani-pedis and mall excursions, and that was only when Pam Burkhart wasn't jaunting off to some exotic location, pretending to whichever wealthy local she met that she was still single and childless. It was just Jackie and her nanny, alone in that big, empty house with more rooms than anyone needed, certainly more than the family of three needed.

Now, looking at the Kelsos, she realized she had come a long way from that lonely little girl who watched enviously as Bob and Midge showed up to all of Donna's T-ball games - not that she wanted to play T-ball; it was the principle of the thing - or Michael's parents showed up with their many kids in tow on Parent-Teacher Night, or when she would hear Eric complaining to Donna and Kelso about Red forcing him into a game of football with him the other night when Eric had just wanted to play with his G.I. Joe.

Because when it all came down to it, Betsy, Brooke and even Michael were her family, and she knew the Formans and Fez were, too, though she rarely saw them these days.

The Burkharts might not have been the best example of a loving family, but Jackie had made her own.

And that was all that mattered.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a beautiful day in the city, one of those moments where she was reminded exactly how lucky she was to live in LA, even with the place's infamous lousy traffic and smothering smog. Instead of enjoying a leisurely stroll in the park with her favorite people, she could be freezing her ass off in Wisconsin. Hell, in a couple days, she would be freezing her ass off in Wisconsin.

"Godmommy! Let's go swing!" Betsy said, taking Jackie's hand as the little girl effectively shattered her vision of dying a tragic, hypothermic death in Point Place and the indecision of which actress would play Donna in the movie of her life. She couldn't think of anyone quite as much of a lumberjack as the redhead, so clearly the only suitable choice would be the woman herself. Although, that one redhead in that show she watched with her mom when she was a kid - Here Comes the Brides, wasn't it? Pam had loved the romantic sappiness of it all - would certainly have the look, but surely she was too old for the part.

How had she survived so many years in that dinky town where the only entertainment was getting high, getting drunk or stealing Bobo the clown? (God, she hated that clown.) How did anyone? And, most importantly, why had she agreed to go back?

For the Formans, she reminded herself. She would do anything for the Formans, the people who had found her a place to live when she had nowhere to go. Or for Bob, who gave her a room- that she shared with Donna, but if she were honest, sharing a room with Donna had been one of the best times of her life.

"Jackie B! What are you doing here?" a familiar voice called from behind.

The trio turned to find out who had intruded on their private moment, Brooke smiling as she spotted Rick Springfield making his way toward them. It didn't take long for Jackie to notice Michael's scowl, although his wife seemed oblivious.

Jackie took stock of the man she worked with every day. Sure, Rick was nice to look at, but she didn't see the swoon worthy hottie she knew Brooke did. Had she been older, maybe he would be more appealing, but he was no David Cassidy, that was for sure.

"Hey, gorgeous. Fancy seeing you here," Rick said, turning a dashing, debonair smile on Brooke, which only increased her husband's irritation.

"Dude, you gotta stop hitting on my wife - who, by the way, if you can't tell, is pregnant with my child," Kelso said, crossing his arms.

"Michael, it's fine," Brooke told him, returning Rick Springfield's smile with one of her own, although Jackie could detect the slightest hint of caution, as any self-respecting woman would have around the notorious player, who was said to be dating a much younger woman. Jackie suspected the man would be Kelso's hero if not for his infatuation with Brooke.

"It's not fine! He has no respect for you, our kids or our marriage!"

"It's fine," Brooke hissed, trying to save face in front of the rockstar and prevent the attention of the many people around them, who were starting to tune in to the heated conversation with stares and whispers amongst themselves.

"You're just saying that because he's Rick Springfield," Kelso said. "If it was anyone else, you would've sent him to the ER the second he looked at you like that. Gary Hayes broke an arm just by whistling at you!"

He gestured angrily in the direction of the rockstar, earning a slight chuckle from the man in question. Jackie wasn't too surprised by the turn of events; like her; Brooke always drew attention from the opposite sex, and she had to laugh at Kelso's attitude. It was ironic, given his history of cheating.

Oh, that Rick Springfield - always a player. David Cassidy, though, he would never go around flirting with every girl he saw. He had much more class than that, Jackie decided. She wondered if the show could talk him into doing a guest stunt and fulfill her dream of meeting the most beautiful man in the universe, closely followed by Adam, and, she supposed, Steven. Regardless of how she felt about him, those beautiful blue eyes would forever solidify his status as being one of the most handsome men she had ever met - not that she would tell him that, of course.

"Gary Hayes is a creep," Brooke said, as Jackie wondered who this Gary Hayes person was and resolved to ask her about it later.

"Look, man, you married a super hot chick, okay? Men are going to notice and flirt with her. That's life. You should be flattered," Rick said, further incensing an already red-faced Kelso.

"That's it!" he roared, catching the older man off-guard as he leapt at him.

"Michael!" called Jackie and Brooke simultaneously. Neither thought he would actually hit the older man, but both knew that even Michael had moments where his temper got the worst of him, causing him to shoot a BB gun at Hyde or react in a way that usually ended up with him hurting his own eye.

But this was Michael Kelso, after all, and the girls had nothing to worry about.

"Man, what the hell?!" Rick said as Kelso stood up triumphantly and a few sniggers sounded from the men hanging around, prompting swift swats on the shoulder from their other halves.

"Burn! That'll teach you to hit on my wife," the younger man told him. "You can date a girl ten years younger than you all you want - in fact, congratulations, that's every guy's dream - but you flirt with Brooke Kelso - a pregnant Brooke Kelso! - don't expect her husband to just stand back and let it happen."

By this point, there was a crowd of onlookers and a cop was heading in their direction.

"Oh good, the police. Officer, arrest this man for hitting on my wife!" Kelso said, clearly pleased that he had gotten one over on the musician - or, so he thought.

"Michael, it doesn't work like that…" Jackie started, but the cop cut her off before she could finish her sentence.

"Michael Kelso, you are under arrest for the indecent exposure of Rick Springfield. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney..." droned the surprisingly thin and super gorgeous officer as he handcuffed Kelso and, to Jackie's pleasure, winked in her direction.

She quickly glanced at his hand, out of an old habit she had long since quit trying to break. No ring, she noted with a satisfied grin, wondering if it was bad form to ask out the man who was currently arresting her old friend and scaring her goddaughter.

Jackie thought of Adam and then decided against the idea. She was, after all, a happily single woman and she could appreciate a beautiful man (and god, was he beautiful, perhaps the fourth most beautiful man she had ever seen,) without trying to get a date out of him. But, if the officer wanted to ask her out, she certainly wouldn't protest. Choosing to be single - for now, as Jackie still very much wanted to be someone's wife and mother in the future - didn't mean she had to stop dating entirely.

"You're arresting me? For pantsing the man hitting on my wife?" Kelso asked, incredulous.

"Indecent exposure has been illegal in California parks since 1979," the officer informed him as Jackie tried to subtly glance at his name badge.

"I didn't know he was going commando!" Kelso defended. "Put on some underwear, man!"

"Michael! Shut up!" Brooke said. "Did you miss the part where he said 'anything you say can and will be used against you?' Stop talking!"

"Michael Kelso, what have you done," Jackie sighed.

"Daddy!" Betsy cried, trying to reach her father as Brooke held her back.

"Shh, baby, daddy will be just fine," she reassured her daughter.

"Everything will be fine, Bets," Kelso said. "Just stay with your mom," he added, as the officer started to haul him away.

"This is ridiculous!" Jackie said, looking at Rick. "Are you really going to let him take Michael downtown because he pantsed you?"

"The idea is tempting," he admitted, "but no, I won't press charges. I'll take care of this."

"Good," Jackie said. "And Michael's right; put on some underwear."

"What can I say? The ladies love a guy going commando," Rick said as he winked at the women in the crowd. The consequent sighs and swoons proved that he had a point.

"You're an international rockstar. They love you in whatever. Do yourself a favor and put on underwear. That cannot be comfortable," she replied, gesturing to his tight leather pants.

He considered it. "You do have a point," he said, pulling his pants back up. "I'll see what I can do about your husband, fairy lady," he said, planting another kiss on Brooke's hand.

"Thank you," she replied. Brooke had a lot more patience than Jackie would in this situation, that's for sure. If her husband had been arrested for pantsing Rick Springfi - on second thought, her husband would be smarter than that. Adam was much more mature than the boys she had grown up with, and Steven would never pants Rick with witnesses present. Jackie was sure that whoever she was meant to end up with would have the same attitude.

Rick quickly left, but not before receiving a kick in the shins from an infuriated Betsy Kelso, which was exactly what Jackie herself had considered doing.

"Betsy!" Brooke admonished, as the little girl looked sheepishly at her godmother.

"I taught her that," Jackie said, proudly.

Brooke sighed. "What did Mommy and Daddy say about kicking people?"

The little girl recited their words, as if she had heard them plenty of times before. "That just because Godmommy kicks people doesn't mean I can."

"Exactly," her mother responded, nodding her head. "But," she paused, "I suppose that man did deserve it."

Betsy grinned.

"But that doesn't make it right!" Brooke hastily added.

"Yes, Mommy. I'se sowwy."

"That's alright, baby," Brooke said, lifting Betsy into her arms.

"No, give her here," Jackie said, reaching for her goddaughter.

"Jackie, it's fine. I've got her."

"You have a persistent weight you're carrying around and Betsy has got to add to the discomfort, whether you wanna admit it or not. Let me take her."

"Okay, okay," the older brunette said, allowing Jackie to transfer over the little girl. "You know, you're very bossy."

"Yeah, I might've heard that once or twice."

"C'mon, let's go get my husband out of his latest predicament," Brooke said, linking her arm in Jackie's.

"We all tried to warn you," the petite woman told her, flicking her raven-haired side braid as she adjusted her goddaughter to sit more comfortably in her arms.

"I know you did. But if I could do it all over again, I would. I wouldn't trade Michael, our family or our life together for anything, not even a husband who has more maturity and sense than to pants heavily-spotlighted rockstars."

"You know, you're really good for him," Jackie said with a thoughtful look. "When Michael and I were dating, I couldn't see him as a husband, let alone a father. And he doesn't bring a box of puppies home every week!"

"Oh, believe me, he's tried. I told him we can get a puppy after the baby is born, and depending on how that goes, a second one. I also talked him into getting a cat."

Brooke loved cats, Jackie knew. She had one when she was younger, a beautiful ginger tabby named Precious, who died right before her eighth birthday. Brooke had admitted to choosing the particular name so she could say "my precious" like that Gollum person in that one ring book; even as a child, she had been destined to become a librarian.

Precious was the last gift Brooke received from her father. The brunette didn't like to speak of Mr. Rockwell, and Jackie still had yet to know what became of the man. She had made it her mission to pry it out of her best friend one day, but so far, Brooke wouldn't budge on information.

"But he knows three pets is the limit," Brooke continued.

"And he's okay with that?" Jackie asked.

She nodded. "He said whatever makes me happy, although I'm sure he's already trying to talk Betsy into pleading for a fourth."

"Fowth what?" Betsy asked.

"Nothing, sweetheart. Let's go get Daddy."

"Yay! Daddy!" Betsy said, smacking a kiss on Jackie's cheek.

Jackie hoped it wouldn't take too long to free Michael. She didn't want to be the one to explain to Mrs. Forman that they wouldn't make the anniversary party because he was being held for pantsing, which could only happen to Michael Kelso.

Turning on the radio when they got back to her car, she heard the smooth rhythm of her new favorite song, before the DJ's booming voice cut off the ending notes.

"Alright, alright, that was the new hit song Anything for You, coming to you live from Tiny Grasshopper, whose debut album hits stores next month! Up next, we've got a girl of 17 in ABBA's Dancing Queen, Rick Springfield is Calling All Girls and Zeppelin is on a quest to find the Stairway to Heaven…"

XO

"Red! Red, come here! Michael's on TV!"

She was met with silence as she continued to stare at the screen, her margarita sitting forgotten on the table, her hand clutching the shirt she had been folding before the news bulletin interrupted her task.

"And Brooke! And Jackie!"

The kitchen door swung open. "The Loud One's on TV?!" He paused. "I mean...what'd the dumbass do?"

Kitty grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.

"...in the park, where LA's ABC7 caught an unknown hooligan pantsing Rick Springfield."

"Michael pantsed Rick Springfield?" Kitty asked.

"Dumbass!" Red roared.

The camera panned to a half-naked Rick Springfield hurriedly pulling his pants back up as an officer led Michael away.

"They arrested him?" Kitty exclaimed, immediately worried about Michael, who she knew would not fare well in prison. He would cave to the first person who threatened to smash his face in - his moneymaker, as he affectionately referred to it.

"The teenybopper was going commando? See, Kitty, this is what's wrong with this generation. Men can't put on a damn pair of underwear anymore. He was just asking to be pantsed," Red said.

"Why, Red Forman, are you defending Michael?" Kitty asked.

"Of course not. He's a dumbass. They're both dumbasses. When Kelso gets here, my foot is going so far up his ass, he won't be able to kiss his wife for a year."

"...You're arresting me? For pantsing the man hitting on my wife?" the two heard Kelso say as the local news replayed the now national coverage.

Michael had always wanted to be famous, and now he most certainly was. Although Kitty was sure he hadn't planned on becoming famous through assaulting who was currently the world's favorite rockstar - not that she personally thought it was assault, but that's what the newscaster kept calling the incident, and they were usually accurate about these things.

"He was defending Brooke's honor. That is the sweetest thing," Kitty swooned.

"He could've at least punched the guy," her husband said. "You have a problem with someone, you take it outside and fight like a man. Pantsing him was such a sissy move. Have I taught these kids nothing?"

"You are defending him!" Kitty said.

"I am not. The moron just landed himself in prison and I have to see it all over my screen when I was having a nice, quiet evening cleaning my car. He's all the way on the other side of the country, and yet the idiot still finds a way to ruin my night."

Kitty smiled. "You're such a softie."

Red frowned. "Stop that."

"Reginald Albert Forman is a softie!"

"Kitty!"

"I can not have heard you right. Did you just call Dad a softie?" Eric asked, poking his head through the kitchen door. He - and Kitty assumed Donna - must be back from visiting Bob, where they had spent most of the day.

"Don't make me drill a hole in your ass," Red warned, giving his son a look that would've melted the Wicked Witch of the West faster than any bucket of water.

"That's right, Eric. Your father is a softie," Kitty said.

"Tell that to the Commies he killed in Korea," Donna said, coming in behind Eric.

"Thank you, Donna," her father-in-law said. Kitty knew the redhead had only made the comment to help Red protect his image and decided to let it go - for now.

"How was Bob's?" Kitty asked.

"Food was good, but he wasn't too happy when we told him we weren't going to name the baby Roberta or Robert," her son answered.

"I'm not naming my kid the same name as his or her grandfather," Donna said. "My kid's gonna have their own identity."

"Our kid," Eric said.

"Right," Donna nodded. "But my kid if you still insist on naming the baby Luke or Leia."

"Oh, c'mon, Donna! Luke's a great name!"

"It was until you ruined it with your Star Wars obsession."

"Hey, that Star Wars obsession got me an internship at Marvel last year."

Red sighed. "And here I was so proud of you for considering a career in teaching."

His son stared, mouth open. "Did you just say you were proud of me?"

His father blinked. "What? No. Of course not. Do I need to get you a damn Q-tip?"

"Yes, you did! I heard you! You were proud of me!" Eric said, grinning widely.

"Damn, you get more emotional than your wife," Red said, "and she's pregnant!"

"Whatever, Dad. I know what I heard."

"You did say you were proud of him, Red," his wife said.

"You need a Q-tip, too," the older man replied.

"Why is Dad a softie?" Eric asked, returning to the earlier topic.

"I am not a softie," Red said, frustrated that his son refused to drop it.

"Never mind that," Kitty said, receiving a grateful look from Red. He hoped their son would get the hint; if he didn't, Red was more than willing to deliver a swift kick in Eric's bony ass. And he would definitely enjoy doing so. "Did you see Michael on TV?"

"Kelso was on TV?" Eric and Donna asked in unison.

"Yes, he was! He got arrested in LA!" Kitty exclaimed, as the scene started to replay on the television set before them.

"He was arrested?!" Donna asked. Her shocked look matched her husband's, as he simultaneously asked the reason for Kelso's imprisonment.

"He pantsed Rick Springfield," Kitty said. That was a phrase she had never expected to hear, let alone speak aloud. Of all the shenanigans Michael had gotten into over the years - and there were many - this was by far the craziest. While his ideas had landed him in a hospital bed time and time again, he had never been locked up before.

"Hey, look at the bright side," Eric said. "Maybe he'll finally be famous. He always wanted to do something crazy that would make the media know his name."

"Then you work hard and become known for your skill and talent. You don't get arrested for pantsing an international rockstar. What the hell is wrong with you kids?" Red said.

"Has Brooke or Jackie called yet?" Donna asked her mother-in-law.

"No, not yet," Kitty responded. "Hopefully they will soon."

In the meantime, the only news they would have about Michael was from the biased media, who kept painting him as Rick Springfield's attacker. The very idea that her darling Michael could assault a man older than he was laughable and really, Mr. Springfield should have more decency than to flirt with a clearly married woman.

Kitty was slightly grateful for the media, however. The coverage had allowed her to see her dear Jackie for the first time since the wedding. She'd have to remember to ask for Jackie's address when she saw her that weekend. If the girl wouldn't come back to Point Place for her birthday or for Christmas, then Kitty would have to mail her presents. Last Christmas had been particularly upsetting; Eric and Donna were in the thick of moving preparations for Donna's new job and couldn't afford a flight out, Fez had to cancel at the last minute due to an awful snowstorm that shut down all the airports around him and Jackie couldn't get away from the show. The day was only saved by Steven, Michael, Brooke and Betsy, who had not only come to the house, but also pooled their resources with the others to give Red and Kitty a holiday away in Barbados.

She wasn't going to let a little thing like this keep her children from coming home. But maybe the incident would finally teach Michael that pantsing was something better left in his younger years. He had grown out of some things, after all; he no longer fell off of the water tower every year, and it didn't seem like his clever daughter planned to resume the tradition.

One could only hope.

XO

It had been a long morning, Hyde thought as he smoothly maneuvered the Camino down the familiar country roads of Illinois. He knew every bend and curve, every deer crossing warning and police checkpoint that stood between him and Point Place and, as long as the weather held off, the ride should go off without a hitch.

He looked over and chuckled as his cousin snored beside him.

They weren't supposed to arrive in Wisconsin until the next day, but a surprising winter storm watch one of the Chicago employees had warned WB about threw a dent in their plans. Hyde wasn't going to drive in the forecasted blizzard, especially not with Ade in the car. Had it been just him, he might've considered it, but Betty Lou would dig his grave if anything happened to her daughter.

His cousin hadn't been too pleased at the change in plans, but people rarely were when they were shaken awake at six o'clock in the morning.

He had just been told the news by WB and hurriedly threw his things into his duffle bag. If he didn't hit the road soon, he'd likely not make it to Point Place at all, and he knew Mrs. Forman wouldn't speak to him for what would undoubtedly become many years. He'd had a difficult enough time getting her to talk to him again when she found out he was the only witness at Eric and Donna's elopement - impromptu wedding more than an elopement, really, decided on a whim while he was visiting.

"Shit! Ade, wake up!" Hyde had said when his cousin refused to budge.

To his annoyance, she merely rolled over, opened one eye to look at the clock, muttered "It's six, you ignoramus, go back to bed," and tried to do just that.

"Yeah, it's six, and we have to go now before that freak storm hits Chicago," he said. "So get up!"

Grumpily, she moved to a sitting position and glared at him with her hands on her hips. "I hate you."

"Yeah, I know. You'll feel differently when you have some coffee in your system."

"Mm, coffee," she said, giving a sleepy, dreamy smile.

"Yeah, coffee. Now, up," he said.

"Ugh. Fine," she grumbled, turning to glare at the still sleeping forms of Angie and Marcus, who, like the two of them, had crashed after a Coke and pizza overdose - and probably a bit too many horror movies. "Why aren't you waking them up?"

"They didn't ask about coming to Point Place with me," he pointed out, throwing ingredients into a pan to make some quick scrambled eggs. Balancing the pan handle with one hand, he grabbed two pieces of bread with the other and put them in the toaster.

"You know, Julia's really an idiot, giving up a man who can cook like this," Ade said, nearly drooling at the smells coming from the kitchen.

"I see you're feeling better," Hyde said, the corners of his mouth forming a slight smirk.

"Only a little. Give me a sec," she said, making them a pot of coffee. "Why don't Angie and Marcus come with us? We can make a whole thing of it. It would be fun!"

"Mark has to work and Ang won't step foot in Point Place," Hyde responded. "Wish I could copy her."

"Well, you can't. You're going to please Mrs. Forman," she said as he nodded, "and reunite with Jackie."

He groaned. "Ade, I am not taking you to Point Place if you're gonna try to hook me back up with Jackie."

She shrugged. "I'm not gonna do anything. You'll want her the second you see her."

He snorted. "Right. I think I did a pretty good job avoiding her these last few years."

"That's because you've barely seen her," his cousin pointed out.

He shook his head. "Yeah, but I could've had her in late '79 and '80 and I didn't go for it, so do me a favor and drop this fantasy you have of her becoming your cousin, okay?"

"Hyde, if you were as over her as you claim, you would've moved in with Julia when she asked you to, before her ass cheated. But you didn't."

"I was helping Angie and WB pack up for St. Louis. I needed to keep my place so they could store their stuff there," Hyde defended.

"Sure," Ade said. "Whatever you say, cuz."

By that point, both the breakfast and coffee were ready and the two hurriedly ate while Ade filled thermoses with the hot beverage. She was packed in record time, having borrowed a few items Angie had stashed at his place, and the two hit the road.

So far, they hadn't run into any snow, just an endless amount of rain. The wipers had been going steadily since they left St. Louis, Zep, Hendrix and the Stones rocking out in the background on the mixed tape in his 8-track. It was Ade's concoction, of course; she had the musical taste most people could only dream of. Neither Jackie nor Julia had been that great when it came to their music choices, but Hyde didn't see how anyone could measure up to the music tastes of his kin.

Thank god he was free of that ABBA crap both of his exes loved so much. Julia, at least, had also appreciated the genius of Eric Clapton and agreed that disco was dead.

"Shit," Hyde said, looking out the side window. The wind was starting to pick up and little dots of white began to line the road. WB's man had been right and they were still a half hour away from Chicago. Hopefully traffic wouldn't be backed up outside the city and they'd get to Kenosha - ideally Point Place - before the ground was blanketed in frosty white.

Ade shifted in her seat and then slowly opened her eyes. "Are we there yet?"

"Close to Chicago," Hyde said. "You're really bad company. I've been bored for the last hour."

"I would've been much better company if you hadn't woken me at six o'clock in the freaking morning after only two hours of sleep," she said.

"Hey, it was either leave early, or break Mrs. Forman's heart when we couldn't get through the blocked roads," Hyde said.

"That's totally unfair," she replied.

"Unfair or not, it's the truth. You can sleep at the Forman's."

"Is that…?" Ade asked, staring outside the window.

"Yep. Snow," he nodded.

"It's April," she said.

"Guess March forgot to tell April to send rain showers for May," he replied.

"I thought Chicago doesn't get snow in April."

"The weather machine must've missed that memo. Maybe it's jammed," Hyde said.

"Don't make me hit you," Ade said. "You know I will."

"Fine. I'll be good," he said.

"I hope Jackie's flight makes it in okay," she frowned.

"Jackie, again? Seriously, Ade? What is it with you and the family and the Jackie talk?"

"We just want you to be happy," she told him.

"I wasn't happy with Jackie. She always had these insane expectations she knew I couldn't fill. Way too much pressure, man," Hyde said.

"Right. You weren't happy. Uh-huh. That's why you smile and say her name in your sleep," she replied.

"Shut up, I do not."

"You did just last night! 'Jackie, doll, come here and save me from Freddy,'" she mimicked.

"First of all, that's a terrible impression of me. Second of all, I don't talk in my sleep. Thirdly, I would never ask Jackie's help with anything," he said.

"Well that's because you're stubborn and hard-headed," his cousin responded.

"So are you," he noted.

"I know I am, which makes me more qualified than anyone to call you out on it. Stop being an idiot and realize you want Jackie back before it's too late."

"Adaliah," he said, making her take pause, as he never used her full name, "stop."

"Okay, fine, but if you wake up a bitter, crusty old man whose only companions are Zep and Clapton, don't say I didn't warn you."

"Noted," he said, "and they wouldn't be my only companions."

"They wouldn't?" she asked, perking up.

"Nope," he shook his head, "Hendrix, Nugent and Queen would join in."

She groaned. "I'm not gonna let you become a hermit, Steven J. Hyde-should-be-Barnett, whatever I have to do."

"I'm not planning on it," he said, turning into the traffic of the Greater Chicago area, "hermits don't own music labels."

"Then as long as you keep Fighting the Man, I'll try to drop the Jackie subject," she conceded.

"Finally. It's a deal," he said, as they headed for Kenosha.

"But if you avoid Jackie the whole time we're there, then I'll know you aren't over her," she hastily added.

"Dammit!" Hyde said, knowing he wasn't going to be able to get the last word with her and instead focused on making it to Point Place. No damn blizzard was going to break Mrs. Forman's heart on his watch.


	4. Chapter 4

The windshield was covered with large particles of pristine white by the time they rolled into the Forman's driveway, but the unmistakable beam from the porch light still managed to shine through the precipitation. He smiled, certain that the Formans weren't expecting anyone, and yet Mrs. Forman had left the light on, as if she had just known he was coming.

The warm glow casting a glimmer over the basketball hoop was like greeting an old friend, an especially welcome sight after the turmoil of the nearly closed highway. Individuals and families had been determined to get to their respective destinations before the blizzard prevented their journeys, and the traffic had shown for it. The drive that normally took six hours had lasted for closer to ten.

Sleeping on and off, his cousin hadn't been as great of company as he had hoped. He'd have to remember to refuse her plea for a road trip next time. Angie should've warned him that Ade would be easily put to sleep by the lull of the road, despite the numerous times he had blasted the radio at the loudest volume to keep the sleepy head's eyes open. He had only just gotten her awake again half an hour ago.

"Home sweet home," Hyde announced as he turned off the Camino's engine and cracked his knuckles against the steering wheel.

"Finally! Could you possibly drive any slower?" Ade asked, stretching out presumably sore limbs.

"Hey, we were minutes away from getting stranded in what they're saying could be one of Chicago's worst blizzards. It was either drive like a granny or wind up in the mahogany coffins Auntie had to order for our corpses," he replied.

"Mahogany? I don't think so. No way in hell am I gonna spend the rest of eternity in mahogany."

"What's wrong with mahogany?" Hyde asked.

She looked at him in disbelief. "It's pretentious."

"Agreed. I just wanted to see your face."

She rolled her eyes and reached over to the takeout box to grab a french fry. The short trip to Mickey D's had only been a few hours ago, but it felt much longer.

"Grandpa makes way better fries," Ade said.

"Grandpa makes way better everything," Hyde admitted.

Born in Luxembourg in 1905 as the grandson of Cameroonian slaves, Ulysse Barnett had been perfecting his cooking technique for decades. He worked as a short-order cook in Paris after serving on the frontlines in the first World War, before managing to secure passage to America. Having read about Missouri once in a book - Hyde was fairly certain it was Mark Twain's Tom Sawyer, but his grandfather couldn't remember - he ended up becoming a chef in St. Louis, where he saw a woman singing in a nightclub.

It took about three years before aspiring starlet Minnie Carmichael even noticed him, but he never missed a single one of her performances after that first time, Ulysse had told his grandson, as a much older Minnie smiled and took her husband's hand.

"You have way more patience than me," Hyde responded, awed that two people who had been married for so long could still be as in love as if they first started dating.

It almost made him want what his grandparents had. Almost.

But not everyone stayed as happy as Ulysse and Minnie Barnett, or the Formans. With his background, he was much more likely to get divorced before they even made it through the first decade. Hell, that was the reason he stayed with Sam in the first place, determined to have a healthy marriage unlike his folks. And look how that turned out.

Marriage was overrated and definitely not for him, but it was nice to know that some people could weather the storms and come out stronger.

"When you meet the one, son, you just know," Ulysse said in his thick accent. His time in the US may have given him a good grasp on the English language, but the lyrical sound of the French still rolled off his tongue and caused Minnie's smile to widen every time she heard it.

"He lost his one," Angie and Ade chirped simultaneously as they entered the room, which ended the conversation and put Hyde in a bad mood for the rest of the night.

He hoped meeting Jules would get the two off his back about Jackie, but it just planted them further in their belief that there was only one girl for him and in their neverending quest to get him to agree - a quest that left him irritable more than anything else.

"I can't believe you slept most of the way," Hyde said.

"Not my fault the Camino drives so smooth," Ade defended.

"That's true. My baby always does good."

"Men and their cars. You have got to stop calling it your baby."

"You call your Mustang your 'wild thing.'"

"Mustangs are wild things! And it's the Troggs, Hyde. God.

"Tell me this. If you brought your chick to a car show, who would you choose: the car you call your baby, or your chick?"

Hyde looked at her suspiciously. "Dunno," he shrugged, although he actually did and from experience, too. "Probably the car."

Ade gave him a look. "Your chick. You'd choose your chick."

"How do you know?"

"Because. I know you."

He sighed. "You do know me. A little too well. It's disconcerting."

The corners of her mouth turned into a triumphant grin as she put another fry in her mouth.

And then cringed at the now ice-cold taste.

The screen door clattered open, the sound of hurrying footsteps on the hard driveway soon following.

The two looked to see the source of the noise.

"Steven! You're home! I thought you weren't supposed to arrive until Saturday!" Kitty said, practically ripping the car door off its hinges as she threw herself at him.

He laughed. "Hey, Mrs. Forman." He paused. "Mom."

Kitty smiled, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. He started calling her the term after the accident, but hadn't quite adjusted to it yet. Mrs. Forman was the name he had used for years; it was comfortable. It was familiar.

Ma belonged to someone else entirely, someone who was a real piece of shit. He hadn't seen his ma since she left town six years ago, and that was the way he liked it.

Mom he could get used to, eventually. But Ma? Ma was the past and that was where it would stay.

"You must be Adaliah!" she exclaimed, flinging herself into the car to hug the girl, who was fixing her mass of curls into a ponytail with help from the overhead mirror.

"Please. Call me Lia. Or Dalia. Or Ade, like Hyde does. Anything but Adaliah," she told her, giving the older woman a warm embrace.

"Lia, then. I like it. It suits you," Kitty said, taking her hand and pulling her out of the car. "How was your trip?"

"Terrible," Ade said. "Hyde drove like a tortoise most of the day."

"How would you know? You were asleep!" he said.

"Because you woke me up at six in the morning for a trip we weren't supposed to take until tomorrow!"

"Because we'd get stuck in the blizzard!" Hyde said for what seemed like the umpteenth time. He'd have to remember how moody Ade got with lack of sleep. She was normally much brighter than this.

Kitty dismissed the comment without another thought. "Steven's a good driver. Well...usually."

"Thanks, Mrs. Form - Mom."

"Now come on, get inside, get inside!" she said, ushering them into the house. "Have you two eaten? We've just sat down to dinner."

"Yeah, we grabbed McDonald's," Hyde said.

"About four hours ago," Ade added.

"Goodness, you must be starving! Come on, I have lasagna waiting."

Hyde and Ade followed behind her.

"Yep. I knew I'd like her," his cousin whispered.

"It's impossible not to. Everyone likes Mrs. Forman," Hyde said.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Red said.

"Hyde! You're early!" Donna said, running to wrap her arms around him in a hug.

"There's a blizzard in Chicago we were trying to beat," he said, giving her a smile.

"Great to see you, man," Eric said, grasping his shoulder.

"You too, man. You look good."

It was true. The skinny neighbor boy was still as skinny as ever, but had finally figured out how to grow some facial hair. It wasn't much, but it was no milk moustache. He even had some fuzz coming in on his chin.

"How's the kid?" Hyde asked, pulling away from Donna's embrace to get a look.

"Happy and healthy. And has recently decided to take up room in my ribs," the redhead replied.

Hyde grimaced. "Ouch. Sounds awful, Big Red."

Donna shrugged. "It'll all be worth it once he's here."

"He?" Hyde asked.

"Or she. Whatever."

Eric turned to see the girl standing behind his brother. "Oh, hey."

"Right," Hyde said. "Formans, this -"

"Is Adaliah Jones," she finished for him. "Forgive my cousin's awful manners."

"Hey, I was about to introduce you!" Hyde said.

"I know. I'm just teasing. Lighten up."

"Oh! Adaliah! Great to meet you; we've heard loads about you," Eric said, giving her a hug. "All good things, no need to worry."

"So this is a hugging family, eh?" she asked.

Red snorted. "You won't be getting any hugs from me."

Ade smiled. "You'd be surprised. I can be very persuasive."

"Not with me. I'd rather go bowling with a member of the Vietcong."

"I'm so sorry, Adaliah, we weren't expecting Hyde to bring anyone," Donna said.

"Call her Lia, Donna," Kitty told her daughter-in-law. "Did I forget to mention Steven was bringing his cousin?"

"Uh, yeah, Mom. You kind of did," Eric said.

Kitty shrugged. "Oh well. She can stay in Laurie's old room, since we still don't know whether she's coming. She didn't call you two, did she?"

Eric looked at her like she had just spoken an alien tongue.

"Yeah, I didn't think so," Kitty answered her own question.

"Can we stop with the sentiment and questions and eat this damn lasagna before the Commies invade England?" Red said.

The group took their places at the table, filling their dishes with the delicious meal.

"What makes you think they're gonna invade England, Mr. F?" Ade asked.

"If they invaded anywhere, it'd be England. Bunch of pansy asses. What kind of man gets addicted to tea?" Red said.

Hyde didn't bother to point out that the English could drink just as much as any American. He'd been acquainted with several men from across the pond in the music business, mostly from London, but a few from Sheffield, Manchester and Cornwall as well. One of his business associates had even gifted him with coveted tickets to a Stones concert. Now, there was a night to remember.

Too bad it included Jules.

"I quite like England," Ade said, receiving a look from the older man that rivaled the stare she often gave Hyde when she wanted to prove him wrong. "What? The Stones, Zeppelin and the Beatles all came from there."

"Bunch of hippie bands," Red said.

"How's the lasagna?" Kitty cut in before Steven's cousin got into an argument with her husband. She knew he'd be even moodier about letting her stay than he already was if she let their dispute continue. It'd been too many years since they'd had the others hanging around and Red had become far too used to what Kitty called loneliness and Red called much-deserved solitude.

"Delicious as always, Mom," Eric said, as the rest of them nodded.

Hyde was about to shove another forkful into his mouth when the phone rang.

"Steven, can you get that, please?"

"But, Mrs. Forman -" he started, with no intention of getting up from the table. He was perfectly content in his current position.

"Steven, answer the damn phone," Red said without missing a beat.

"On it," he said, unwilling to risk the wrath of his surrogate father if he didn't comply with the order, no matter how much he longed to continue his dinner without interruption.

In only a mere few paces, he found himself picking up the cord phone, which hung in the kitchen as it always had, a kitchen where nothing had been modified. As much as things changed, some stayed the same, and he was grateful that the place he had spent his adolescence seemed frozen in time, as if none of them had ever left and still spent every day hanging out in Forman's basement.

"Forman residence."

"Steven?"

It was the unmistakable sound of a tiny dancer who could easily pass as a much less sweet Snow White. He hadn't heard that overly girly voice in more than two years, since he tried to confess that he wanted her back and she had left before he was able to get a word out. Hearing that voice again caused a weird sensation he'd been sure he'd long gotten past and it irritated him further to realize his pulse had begun to race. Tiny bumps appeared on his forearms as he gripped the receiver and cursed under his breath that she could still cause this reaction.

Thankfully, no one else seemed to notice, too absorbed in their own meals to even have the slightest interest in who was calling at that time of the night. Ade would have never let him live it down and would be further convinced he still wanted his ex, which couldn't be further from the truth. Hey, no one could control their reaction when the woman they thought could have become the love of their life walked back into it.

Or, in this case, called back into it.

Only Leo knew that he'd actually planned to try to get Jackie back before she up and moved to Madison, effectively destroying any hope he had that she might still have feelings for him.

Now, over two years later, he no longer cared.

But apparently his body did.

He chalked it up to the lack of a good lay since he kicked Jules' cheating ass to the curb. He'd have to do something about that, and soon.

"Jackie."

"Yeah, hey," she said, clearly unaffected, which irritated him even more. "Is Mrs. Forman there?"

He nodded, then realized she wouldn't be able to see through the phone. "Yeah, she's here."

"Well, put her on!"

He laughed and shook his head. She was just as demanding as ever. "Give me a sec." Cupping the phone receiver with one hand, he turned to look at the woman.

"Jackie's on the phone for ya."

"Oh, good!" his surrogate mother said, jumping out of her seat and running to take the phone. "Jackie! How's Michael? Yes, we saw everything, it's all over the TV…"

Hyde lingered, pretending to shuffle through the various storage containers in the fridge while he listened in on the conversation. Jackie's voice could be shrill, and he was sure it sounded that way at the moment, but it wasn't high enough for him to be able to hear her side from that distance. Thankfully, Mrs. Forman was repeating enough that he didn't have any trouble decoding what was happening to his old friend Michael Kelso.

That he had pantsed someone was no surprise. That that someone happened to be the famous Rick Springfield, well, karma really was a bitch.

Spotting Red's six pack in the fridge, he started to reach for a beer. It took everything in him to retract his hand and grab a pop instead.

Nearly two years and still the urge to drink was hard to fight.

But it sure beat getting his ass kicked by Ade later on if he did take the bait and take a sip of the frothy drink.

Who needed a government-paid sponsor when you had Adaliah Jones keeping a hawk-like eye on your drinking habits?

"Well, they're still working on getting Michael out," Kitty said as she hung up the phone.

"Kelso pantsed Rick Springfield?" Hyde asked.

"You didn't hear? It was all over the news," Donna said.

"No, this one's snoring probably drowned out the news report on the radio," Hyde said, sitting back down and nodding at Ade.

"I don't snore!" she said.

"Like an ocean liner," he said.

"You know, Winston Kelso is a fairly intelligent man. He deals with complicated numbers on a regular basis that I wouldn't begin to understand," Red said. "How he could have a son like he does blows my mind."

"Yeah," Kitty said. "Summer Kelso even graduated college and worked her way up to be the Associate Producer for the news station. Wonder what she thought when she realized her son was going to be airing in tonight's broadcast."

"It must be those hippie grandparents of his," Red said. "And all those kids."

Donna gave her husband a pointed look. "If we ever have as many kids as the Kelsos, I'll dig your grave myself."

"Noted," Eric said. "There goes my dream of starting a Jedi training academy with our kids."

Hyde noticed Donna give him a swift kick under the table.

"Ow! I'm just kidding!" he said.

"No marriage disputes while I'm eating," Red said.

"Welcome to the madhouse," Hyde murmured to his cousin, who laughed.

XO

Jackie had hoped they would soon get Michael out after the phone call with Mrs. Forman, but things hadn't gone as planned.

Michael had been forced to spend the night in the holding cell. Although Rick kept his word and dropped the charges almost immediately after he told them he would, the police department had obtained a copy of Michael Kelso's many antics and decided they would teach him a lesson. Apparently there were only so many times your pranks could become public record before the authorities chose to do something about it. While Jackie hadn't been pleased with the idea, it had given her more time with the gorgeous cop. At least something good had come from the situation.

When Jackie and Brooke were finally able to bring the man back to Jackie's apartment early the next morning, he was in a huff.

"Some old guy touched my hair!" Kelso complained as he walked in with Brooke by his side. He hadn't detached himself from her since they were reunited in the station hallway. "And another guy threatened to punch my face because I told him he desperately needed a makeover."

"Michael! You can't just tell prison people they need makeovers," Jackie said.

"Why not?" he asked. "Someone could easily make a fortune off that. They're all a mess and that depressing orange isn't helping. Gray isn't why jailbirds are unhappy, Jackie. It's that hideous orange. Imagine wearing and staring at that all day. Well, that and all those dog collars they wear."

She had to admit that he had a point. Orange was a color she wore rarely, and only if it meshed well with another aspect of her outfit.

"So what did you learn from all this?" Brooke prompted.

"I learned to check around for cops before pantsing anyone in a California park," Kelso responded.

"Michael!" his wife said disapprovingly.

"I learned that Rick Springfield doesn't wear underwear?" he guessed. Judging by the puzzlement on his face, his cluelessness about the correct answer to Brooke's question was genuine.

"You are impossible!" she said, throwing her hands up in the air.

"But you love me," he said.

"Unfortunately," she replied, then turned to their daughter. "Betsy, what did Daddy learn?"

"That you can't pull down someone's pants without quences," the little girl replied.

"Very good, baby. It's 'consequences,'" Brooke smiled, pulling out a picture book from her purse that Betsy happily took.

Jackie watched as her goddaughter ran off to undoubtedly snuggle under her godmother's covers as she let herself be consumed by another adventure.

Even Betsy's preschool was shocked that the little girl was already reading at kindergarten level, but Jackie expected nothing else from the daughter of Brooke Kelso, although she never understood how anyone could find books that fascinating. While she acted dumber than she was when with Michael so that he would feel smarter, she had still never been the type to pick up a book and read it for fun. Well, except for romances and Nancy Drew, of course - not that she would ever admit the latter.

"Show off," Kelso called after his daughter.

"Honestly, Michael! You didn't even consider that I could lose my job over this!" Jackie said.

"What?" he asked, bewildered. "Did that asshole Rick Springfield get you fired?"

"Well, no, but he easily could've! You can't go around pantsing people with that much power and influence, especially people I work with. You aren't a child anymore, Michael."

"Yes, Mom," he grumbled.

"I'm just saying exactly what Mrs. Forman will say when we see her."

He looked at her, mouth agape. "You didn't tell her!"

"She saw it on the TV, Michael!"

His annoyance transformed into a glimmer of happiness. "I was on TV?"

"Yeah, you were. It was all over the news - could've been international, for all we know. Rick is famous all over the world."

"Hell yeah!" Kelso said, pumping his fist. "I'm going to be famous! Finally!"

"Michael!" Brooke admonished.

"I mean...oh shit?"

Brooke shook her head. "Well, at least you'll have one over on your brothers. It'll give me something to throw in Sherry's face over Christmas dinner when she starts talking about the renovations on their million dollar home. Honestly, who would want to spend a million dollars on a house?"

Aside from Casey, most of Kelso's siblings had somehow managed to do well in life, despite the burden of the infamous Kelso name. Daniel Kelso was a cardiac surgeon in one of Maryland's top hospitals. Elliott Kelso ran a local TV station in San Diego. Nick Kelso, the husband of Sherry, was a top litigator in DC. Billy Kelso was married to his college sweetheart, who just so happened to be the mayor's daughter. Most surprisingly, Katrina Kelso, who Hyde had once declared would be a virgin for a long time, had married into Hollywood elite and was expecting her first child.

Only Casey and Jamie still lived at home, Casey having recently been fired from his position as the gym teacher at PC High, while Jamie was on parole after robbing the Piggly Wiggly.

"Elliott probably reported on it," Michael said proudly, although Jackie decided the incident was nothing to be proud of. The boy was lucky Rick hadn't been out for vengeance. Most celebrities wouldn't take kindly to being humiliated on national television and would do everything possible to make the source of their embarrassment pay for their actions, she was sure of it.

"Promise me you won't pants people anymore," Brooke said.

"Babe, you told me not to make promises I won't keep," he replied.

"Michael," she prodded.

He let out a loud sigh. "Fine. I promise I won't pants international rockstars or anyone famous, especially if there's any chance that a member of authority might be nearby. But I make no promises about my friends."

"Okay," Brooke nodded. "I'll accept that," she added as she gave him a kiss that he happily began to return.

"I'm still waiting for you to get a room!" Jackie said.

"You're the one who keeps inviting us to your place!" Michael pointed out.

She frowned. He was right. Every time the Kelsos left, she found herself forgetting exactly how nauseating they were, until she was reminded during their next visit.

"Well stop kissing and help me pack!"

"Jackie, you're only going away for a couple weeks," Brooke said, as she took note of the four empty suitcases that were currently taking up room in the corner.

"To Point Place!" Jackie said. "Where I have to be the most stylish, and prepared for all potential weather situations, and pack extra clothes because I just know one of the boys is going to spill his beer all over me."

"You'd easily be the most stylish chick in Point Place even if you were wearing a pantsuit made from a paper bag and a mophead for a hat. Two suitcases will suffice. One bag and one carryon," Brooke said, wheeling the chosen luggage over to Jackie's bed and then proceeding to open her dresser drawers.

"See, this is why I need you," Jackie responded as she placed the other two suitcases back into the closet.

"You don't need anyone, honey. You're a strong, beautiful, independent woman who can easily take care of herself. But you could definitely do with some packing tips. Why do you even have four suitcases?"

"It's from when Adam and I went to New York for his job interview."

A few months prior to taking the job with the BBC, Adam had interviewed at the NBC building in Manhattan and invited Jackie along. The visit was the last time she had seen Fez, nearly eight months ago.

Her longtime friend was living the high life as Broadway's most beloved hairstylist, which meant his free time was limited. She hadn't been able to see him as long as she would've liked, but it was nice to visit with him all the same.

Like Michael and Brooke, he had enjoyed Adam's company, but Jackie knew he felt there was someone else she should be with, mostly because Fez was always telling her about Steven.

Well, he tried to, anyway. She was a pro at cutting Fez off.

She was looking forward to catching up with him, but hoped there would be no extra talk of Steven than was necessary.

After all, he would be there.

Single.

And so would she.

Single.

It was a good thing she didn't feel anything for him anymore, aside from wanting him with a girl who wasn't going to cheat on him, twice, or fake a marriage.

Honestly, where did Steven find these women?

She blamed his issues with his mother.

"Have you heard from Adam?" Brooke asked.

"No. Not since we broke up. I did see Esther last month and she said he's doing really well in the studio. He already got to do a broadcast from Paris!" Jackie said.

"That's good. I'm happy for him. I'm sure he misses you."

"I don't want him to miss me. It'd be too hard. He needs to get on with his life. And I need to get on with mine," Jackie said, staring at her bikini as she contemplated whether to pack it.

As if reading her mind, Brooke gave her a pointed look. "A bikini? In Point Place? In April? Really?"

"Good point," she replied, putting the bikini back in her drawer and throwing several sweaters into the suitcase in its place.

"Here," Brooke said, cringing at the toppling pile of clothes created by Jackie tossing things onto the bed. "Let me just do it."

Her best friend grinned. "I love you."

"Yeah, yeah. You're lucky I'm in that maternal stage. A month ago, I would have bitten your head off about leaving your packing until the last minute, again. We're flying out later this afternoon, and you haven't even touched your bags."

"What's the point of packing when I know you'll always do it for me?" Jackie shrugged.

Brooke pursed her lips momentarily, then sighed. "You're right. I'm so predictable."

"But oh so loved."

"Uh-huh. Hand me those boots."

Jackie did as requested.

"Those gloves."

In went her favorite pair of red cashmere gloves.

"The hat."

And her white winter hat.

Even in Wisconsin, the days of April weren't usually freezing, but the nights could get damn cold. Better to be safe than a victim of hypothermia.

"Still not packed, Jackie?" Kelso asked as he returned from the kitchen with two glasses of ice water for the girls and a beer for himself.

"Oh, shut up, Michael. You never pack," Jackie said, taking the water from her ex.

"Why would I when my wife does it so well?"

Brooke looked at him and took the other glass. She paused after taking a sip, her fingers sliding through his thick hair. "Y'know," she said coyly, "maybe I should make you pack next time."

She removed her hand as Kelso gave her a horrified gaze. "But I'm so bad at it!"

"It's not that difficult. You put clothes into a bag and zip it up. It's not like trying to bake a Crème brûlée."

"Then why doesn't Jackie do it?"

"Because Jackie overpacks," Brooke said.

"Well maybe I'll overpack, too!" Kelso said.

"You underpack," his wife reminded him.

"And that's why you do it," he told her.

Brooke paused in the middle of folding one of Jackie's shirts to frown at her husband.

"It's okay," Jackie said, placing an arm around her best friend's shoulders. "Every group has a Mrs. Forman. You just happen to be ours."

"Well," Brooke contemplated, setting the folded clothing into the bag, "I guess that's not so bad. Not everyone can balance a career and a houseful of seven kids and come out on top."

She noticed Kelso begin to speak and cut him off. "We are not having seven kids, Michael!"

"What about seven dogs?"

"No!"

"Okay, five dogs and two cats."

"Michael!"

"Three dogs and four cats?"

"One dog and one cat! We've discussed this!"

Jackie laughed. Even their arguments were sickeningly endearing. The two were still fairly fresh in their marriage, still in the honeymoon stage, but Jackie hoped her friends would always argue over silly things like this. Betsy shouldn't have to to live with parents who could barely tolerate each other, like in Jackie's childhood. If she didn't know any better, she would assume that the match between Jack Burkhart and Pamela Winthrop was an arranged marriage, but she knew they had once been in love - a long, long time ago, the spark clearly fading faster than either expected.

Maybe it was a lesson in rich marrying rich: that it didn't turn out well. But that couldn't be true. Lady Diana Spencer had wed Prince Charles the previous year, and they seemed very happy. But then again, anyone would be when their wedding was watched by a reported 750 million worldwide.

She wondered if Prince Edward were single. Prince Charles' much younger brother was a gorgeous sight to behold and becoming the sister-in-law of the world's most beloved princess certainly didn't hurt.

Would Adam get the chance to meet the royal family? Would she ever know if he did?

"God, Brooke. I never get to win anything," Kelso said with a pout.

"You won me," his wife said.

"You are not a prize to be won," he corrected, which in itself was a statement completely contradictory to what he would have said only a few years ago. Jackie was impressed by how much he had grown in such a short time, even if he did still have his many moments of immaturity - many, many moments, as was proven only the previous day.

"Very good. I was testing you," she said, giving him a peck on the nose.

And just like that, their argument was over.

If only it had been that easy in the Burkhart home.

Things could have been a lot different.


	5. Chapter 5

There was a feeling of power that came from tapping two-week old manicured fingernails on a freshly polished airline ticket counter. It was one of those few times there was any sense of control in a place filled with privacy invasion, delays, standby and lost luggage.

Or cancellations.

"No, look, you don't understand. I'm Jacqueline Burkhart, okay? Look, I'm an intern for General Hospital! Doesn't that mean anything around here?"

"You work on my favorite show?" the woman screamed behind the counter. "Okay, can you tell me if Laura is going to get her memory back? I just love her! That Genie Francis is stunning! Curse David for hypnotizing her. Has anyone you work with ever thought of pairing her with Robert? Tristan and Genie would be so beautiful - not that I don't love her with Luke, of course; they had such a beautiful wedding. The girls all came over and we watched; even our husbands were glued to the screen. Charlene's Navy lieutenant husband cried! I mean, it was no Diana and Prince Charles, of course, but it was still so lovely. I'm so happy Luke found her. That poor man thought she was dead!"

"Sorry, I can't say a word. I'm sworn to secrecy," Jackie said, shifting Betsy from one aching arm to the other. She was used to this. Fans of the show were always asking her to reveal details and secrets of behind-the-scenes. It was the very reason she tended to avoid disclosing her exact job title with people she newly met - "I'm doing an internship as a production assistant for television. Oh, you've probably never heard of it" and she would name off some imaginary series. While she would like to tell every stranger she encountered about her incredible job, she also liked to be able to eat a meal in peace. How did she ever believe she could handle fame? No one wanted to be recognized and begged for an autograph in the lady's restroom at the Rose Bowl, like her former co-worker had been once.

But she had hoped telling the woman would help their current predicament and decided to call in her status, against her better judgment.

"Well, I'm afraid I can't get you another flight," the woman told her.

"Damn, Jackie! Just tell her something!" Kelso said, as Brooke tugged at his arm to shush him.

"I can't, Michael! Gloria Monty would kill me!" Jackie said, frowning at her ex. She would much rather deal with an upset Kitty Forman than an enraged Gloria Monty. She was two inches shorter than Jackie, but that didn't deter her from being one of the fiercest women she had ever met, a trait that had served the woman well and made her the producer of a beloved show that brought in double the income of Dallas.

Jackie knew she was fortunate that her communications professor was good friends with one of the bigwigs at GH and told his media class about the new internship opportunity as soon as it was announced. Back in the day, working in a soap opera was a stepping stone; now, Jackie would easily get any television gig she wanted. When she first accepted the job, it seemed the perfect thing to kick start her acting career. After a few months, Jackie realized she would much rather become an important producer than an actress. Actresses had so little say in their lives, controlled by a studio who monitored their every move. Producers got to boss people around, for a living.

And Jackie could just imagine Chelsea Davis' face when she saw the brunette win an Emmy for her production skills. Her old redheaded enemy at cheerleading camp would be so envious, the perfect payback for that time she stole the spirit stick in the pep competition and Jackie's team were forced to wash the dishes for the rest of the week as a result.

Maybe Donna could write the script for her new show and Donna Pinciotti and Jackie Burkhart could take over the world. Surely she'd be able to meet David Cassidy and Princess Di then. Music groups, such as ABBA, would fight to sing at her parties. And of course Prince Andrew would beg for an invitation.

Everyone anticipated her to be a wreck after the breakup with Fez. No one expected she'd decide to enroll in college at Madison, let alone that she'd be accepted into UCLA halfway through the spring semester. They were especially surprised when she secured a job of such prestige, almost as surprised as she was when she learned Christine St. George gave her a glowing recommendation as part of her application.

Even though Christine fired her, she must have made some kind of lasting impact for the woman to persuade the ABC executives that hiring her would be in their best interest. It was incredibly helpful, having someone like Christine St. George on her side.

One thing was for sure: Jackie was no longer the lonely hair sweeper at the local beauty salon who was forced daily to see her ex-boyfriend draped over his stripper wife, the same woman who stole her supposed best friend and then turned out to be a lying con - after she completely destroyed any semblance of a relationship between Jackie and her ex.

"Oh no, dear," the woman reassured. "I promise this isn't payback. I'm afraid the blizzard has shut down Chicago and everything in the surrounding area, making conditions impossible for air travel. I can't get you another flight, even if you did reveal classified information, like whether Monica and Alan are going to reunite anytime soon. Honestly, those two cannot make up their minds."

"You mean, we're stuck in Davenport?" Jackie asked, horrified.

"Oh, it's not so bad!" said the woman, whose slightly crooked nametag read Anne. "We have the Herbert Hoover Presidential Library and Museum over in West Branch, not even an hour away."

"Oh great," Kelso groaned. "We get to go hear about some old, dead guy."

"Michael!" Brooke said. "Herbert Hoover was a significant president in the earlier part of this century. Had he not been inundated with the mess created by Harding and Coolidge and the rampant speculation of the flapper age, which helped to create the international Depression, he may have had a better term. As it is, the public knew his laissez-faire policies -"

"Yeah, yeah," he interrupted. "Anywhere else?"

"Sure!" Anne said, flashing what many would consider the standard placating smile of a ticket agent, but which seemed quite genuine. Jackie decided that Ticket Agent Anne must be Iowa's Kitty Forman and was certain she took around a tray of brownies to all of her neighbors just because it was a Monday.

"We have the Putnam Museum, which has a wonderful selection of science and history, and there's the Davenport Municipal Art Gallery…"

Kelso groaned. "What's with all these boring museums? Why can't you get something awesome, like antique cars, or a brewery, or...a bouncy castle! No! A real castle!"

Adam must have seen hundreds of castles by now. He'd be crazy to not take advantage of every tourist opportunity his new continent offered, so different than the one he left.

Shaking her head at her husband, Brooke turned a warm smile to Anne. "Is there anything you can do? We've just come in from LA. Our plane was supposed to land in Chicago, but, as you know, it was diverted because of the weather and our three-year old is starting to get hungry."

"I would love to help you, honey, but there isn't a single flight leaving for Chicago until at least Tuesday. There is some food available in the small cafe near the baggage claim."

"Tuesday?!" Jackie exclaimed. "It's Friday! I can't stay in Davenport until Tuesday! We're supposed to attend my parents' anniversary party in Wisconsin tomorrow!"

"Wait, they're not -" Kelso started, before receiving a kick in the shins from Brooke. "Ow! Hey! Don't Jackie me!"

"I do apologize, dear, but there's nothing that can be done. Passenger flights from outside the region are very uncommon. There's the Standard Hotel about 15 minutes from here, or a Travelodge about 10 minutes away on the highway. They're working on renovating Blackhawk, such a lovely accomodation in its heyday. It's too bad you didn't come next year. It's supposed to be done then. I can go ahead and pre-book you for the Tuesday flight to Chicago?" Anne said.

"I suppose," Jackie said, sighing. She had hoped calling the Formans her parents would make Anne more sympathetic to their plight, but to her dismay, the plan had been unsuccessful. Even worse, now she had to break the news to Mrs. Forman, who was still upset over her missing Christmas.

With Michael and Brooke tagging along behind her, Jackie walked over to the payphone and inserted the exact amount of coins. It would be so much easier for each individual to have their own phone, she decided, although she didn't see that happening anytime soon.

She was relieved to hear an older woman's voice answer the other line. One phone call with Steven had been awkward enough; she couldn't imagine another. She had been irritated at discovering that her heart was pounding during their entire - and, thankfully, brief - conversation and was convinced that Steven heard it, too.

"Hi, Mrs. Forman, it's me."

"Jackie, hi!" came the warm, melodic voice. "Are you in Kenosha?"

"Change of plans," she replied. "I'm so, so sorry, but we won't be able to make it to the party."

"What?! I was so looking forward to seeing you!"

"I know, and I was excited to see you! Brooke and I even made cookies; okay, so Brooke made them, but she did let me stir the batter. And I put in all the chocolate chips. But Brooke and Betsy did more of the baking."

"Oh, good. You had me worried for a moment. Why can't you come?"

"Apparently there's this big snowstorm in Chicago and the airport shut down. We're stuck here in Davenport, Iowa. I thought about taking the Greyhound, but -"

"No, no, Brooke is far too along to deal with the sketchiest items in society: the Greyhound seats. And I heard that the bus driver wakes you up at every stop. The poor girl would never fall asleep," Kitty said.

Jackie was relieved. Although the thought of taking the bus had crossed her mind, she would much rather eat fermented shark than actually get on that particular mode of transportation. She had seen the Icelandic delicacy once in a magazine, complete with scathing reviews. Apparently, "fermented" was just another word for "rotten." Most Icelanders wouldn't even eat the dish, just like she wouldn't take the bus.

Plenty of people used public transit every day, which was fine for them, but if she didn't use it in LA, she wasn't about to start in the Midwest. If it weren't for the damn age limit on car rentals, she would look into one of those. It wasn't like they could take a taxi all the way to Wisconsin. Didn't WB live in St. Louis now? Maybe he could pick them up. How far was St. Louis from Davenport? WB had always liked her. It would be easy to convince him.

If Mrs. Forman couldn't come up with a solution, she would call him next.

"Where are you right now?" asked the woman who was always more of a mother to Jackie than her own.

"We're still in the airport," she replied, fiddling with the metal cord of the payphone as she inspected her nails for signs of chipped paint.

She was pleased to find there weren't any.

"Okay, sit tight. Go wait by the baggage claim. One of us will come down to get you," Kitty said.

There was a click as the line went dead.

Yes, individual phones with unlimited calltime would be much better than these greedy payphones.

"What did she say?" Brooke asked.

"Well, she doesn't want us to take the bus because she doesn't trust the people who ride it, so she said to wait by the baggage claim and I guess one of them will come get us," Jackie replied.

Fez wouldn't have a car; Steven would. It was unlikely for Red to drive out this far, or even that Kitty would let him. The chances of Bob getting lost were high and who knew if he'd ever be found again. The driver in question was undoubtedly Eric.

"Then that's what we'll do. Come on," the taller girl said, allowing Kelso to take her hand and then grabbing Jackie's with her free one.

As they walked and Kelso pushed the trolley of carry-ons and Betsy's unicorn backpack full of nature books, Jackie went over the morning's events. They had nearly missed the flight from LA after her idiot ex-boyfriend forgot to set the alarm and literally raced through the airport to catch it, getting to the departure gate right before it was closed. The flight itself had been smooth in the beginning, becoming more turbulent as they soared over Kansas. Upon entering Iowa, the captain was told the storm in Chicago was too hazardous for flying and he was to land at the Davenport Municipal Airport.

One of the many things Jackie did not miss about this area of the country was the unpredictable weather. The idea of a snowstorm in April was unfathomable to southern Californians, who already had a difficult time trying to imagine snow in October. She laughed, imagining what her college friends would say when they heard of her predicament, especially those who had invited her down to Mexico City for the weekend and were disappointed when she told them about Wisconsin.

If it wasn't the Formans' anniversary, Jackie would have definitely chosen the trip to Mexico instead. She always wanted to see what the country had to offer besides tequila and guys named Juan or Carlos, whoever it was her mother was hung up on these days.

While she would like to blame the day's events on Michael, she knew he couldn't control the weather. He told her as much, once, but as she had seen him wrap his coat around Brooke not even a minute ago, she decided he must have tacked on "offer to share coat" as an accomplishment brought about by his marriage.

Thank God for Brooke Rockwell. She didn't want to think about what Michael would still be like if he had never wanted to impress his future wife.

He didn't even try to hide his math prowess anymore.

"I'm starving," Jackie said, producing a crisp $20 bill. "I'm gonna get some food. You guys want anything?"

"Yeah, get some fruit for Brooke and Betsy and a massive chocolate chip cookie for me," Kelso said.

"Michael!" Brooke said.

"Okay fine, get half a cookie and I'll share it with her," he amended.

Brooke sighed, a constant and amusing reaction to her husband that never failed to elicit a smile from Jackie. "Sandwiches. Just get us sandwiches, honey."

Jackie nodded. "Sandwiches it is." She already didn't expect much; airport food was hardly anything to wax poetic about in LAX, let alone in Davenport Municipal Airport. She wasn't sure what Mrs. Forman had planned, but she hoped whatever it was included a nice meal.

XO

This was not what he signed up for, at all. He was certain he'd have a leisurely rest after arriving at the Formans, teasing Eric, avoiding questions from Mrs. Forman and preventing Ade from interrogating his friends about his dead relationship with Jackie.

And Hyde definitely didn't expect he'd be leaving so soon after Fez got there.

His old friend was smart. The Broadway production Fez had been working on held its final performance earlier that week and, rather than sit around waiting to fly out to Point Place, he bought a ticket for Denver and spent a couple days in Estes Park, touring The Taffy Shop. Ultimately, this had been the better decision; instead of trying to see if his flight from New York to Chicago was cancelled - which was inevitable - Fez was able to take a Red Eye from Denver to Milwaukee, and then into Kenosha without issue.

If only it was that easy for the Kelsos and Jackie.

Iowa? They were at the airport in Iowa? Hyde could just imagine what his ex-girlfriend was saying right now. She'd be complaining about sitting with the common folk, eating airport food and probably talk off the ticket agent's ear for cancelling their flight, as if the airline had much of a choice when the whole of Chicago was shut down.

The worst part?

Now he had to go to Iowa.

"Why can't someone else do it?" he inquired when Mrs. Forman asked, more demanded, that he get the others from the airport. "What about Forman?"

"The Vista Cruiser is back in Seattle and Red will absolutely not let Eric drive his car, under any circumstances. You won't let anyone else drive the El Camino, so it just makes sense for you to do it."

"Okay, but why can't they take the bus?"

He knew the answer before the older woman could open her mouth. "Brooke."

"Yes, Brooke," she confirmed. "I will not have that dear girl on the Greyhound, surrounded by murderers and thugs and God knows what else, when she's that far along."

"Mom," Hyde said. "The news over-sensationalizes. I've taken the Greyhound a few times and it's much better than they make it seem -"

"Nevertheless, it isn't nearly as good, nor as fast as your car, so please go to Iowa and get them. The blizzard hasn't hit there, yet, and if we're lucky, it will stay clear. The bus could take all night. We have no idea how many stops there might be. They might get lost in Michigan!"

While it was unlikely the bus would travel from Iowa to Wisconsin by way of Michigan, if there was one person he could never say no to, it was Mrs. Forman.

"Fine," he sighed. "But Ade can stay here. One more car trip listening to her snore and I'll fall asleep at the wheel."

"It's all your damn moaning about Jackie that kept me up last night. Remind me to never crash at your place after a horror marathon again," his cousin retorted as she helped Mrs. Forman organize the pantry.

Hyde avoided the older woman's inquisitive, penetrating gaze as he growled in response. "Adaliah! Quit it!"

Inwardly, he swore never to wake her up that early again. He was getting real tired of her attitude. If he were the praying sort, he'd send a message to The Man Upstairs that his cousin would be restored to her normal friendly self after a good night's rest, but while he respected organized religion and its principles, far too much shit had happened in his life for him to believe in any God, Allah, Buddha or whatever. So instead, he looked at the clock with both hands turned to an 11 and made a wish. He didn't believe in that, either, but one harmless wish didn't hurt as much as an unanswered prayer.

And he'd had plenty of those.

When he'd first met the Formans, the family had invited him to church (well, Kitty and Eric did; Red mostly just grunted about missing the Packers game to have Pastor Harvey yell at him about how many times he'd missed church to have a beer and watch the Packers game with the guys from the plant.)

Bud's parents forced him to attend church well into his teens, until he started drinking and skipping services to shack up with whichever girl was willing to sleep with him. Edna had a grandmother who was a devout Catholic, but she'd died long before her granddaughter was born and didn't have a chance to teach her the edicts. She had never known her mother, as she'd repeatedly told Hyde every time he said he deserved a better one. The daughter of a Baptist preacher, Mildred Speltzer had dreams of starring alongside Lana Turner and Rita Hayworth, then walking down the aisle to a blissful 50 years with Jimmy Stewart and nothing was going to stop her from that goal - not even a newborn baby girl.

The day Edna was born, Don Taylor woke up to find a squalling infant in his parents' flowerbed with a note from his girlfriend that she'd run off to Hollywood to be in the pictures. He was cute, she'd written, but Jimmy Stewart was cuter.

Much like Bob Pinciotti, Hyde's Grandpa Don was a sweet, jolly man with a tendency to let women use him as a floor mat. Edna was his world and she knew it. Hyde was convinced that his Ma's treatment of the man had driven him to an early grave. Whatever Edna wanted, Don Taylor gave. He went into debt paying for her water skiing lessons, suffered a heart attack shortly after Hyde was born and died from lingering complications when he was four. He barely remembered his grandpa, but he did remember the saltwater taffies Don carried around in his vest pocket and his tan Birkenstock sandals.

And he certainly had no memory of the hymns that Edna said Don taught him.

After that first day, Hyde attended church with the Formans a few more times, until Edna found out and threatened to move them to another town if he went to that judgmental hellhole one more time.

That was the end of his religious meetings. Kitty refused for Steven to leave Point Place and, reluctantly, stopped inviting him to church. By the time Edna split and Kitty had him under her roof, he'd decided if God was real, He'd stopped caring about him a long time ago and therefore he had no desire to force on a suit and tie and sit in a pew for two hours to listen about a myth.

So no, he definitely wasn't a praying man. Grandpa Don would be so disappointed.

Hyde shook his head and tried to zero in on the road. He glanced at the clock on the dash and sighed. There were still two and a half hours until Davenport and he refused to spend them thinking about Edna, Bud or Jackie.

He reached under the dash, pulled out the first tape he found, placed it in the 8-track and smiled as the quiet tones began the genius Jethro Tull's Locomotive Breath. Yeah, that was more like it. Now he could stop imagining how Jackie looked these days; he was sure big hair, like Joan Collins on Dynasty - not that he had watched, of course, but it was exactly Jackie's kind of show.

Okay, so maybe he had watched it, once, when he was really bored. Hey, Pamela Sue Martin was hot.

He just knew that Jackie picked up some bizarre styling tips from the crowd he'd heard she hung around with these days.

Or that Adam Han.

Oh yeah, he knew all about Adam, the brilliant BBC correspondent who was apparently loved by everyone Hyde considered family. Kelso wasn't as subtle as he'd like to believe.

Plus, Fez outright told him - it seemed somewhat woefully - that Jackie was dating some guy named Adam Han, who he had said was "even more handsome than Kelso, as hard as it is to believe."

Eric joked over the phone that Jackie would become the Devil Han when she married the guy, one letter away from Satan's extremity. Hyde hadn't realized until that particular moment how much the idea of Jackie getting married to anyone else really irked him.

His life was hell with her in it. Why should she be allowed happiness?

He later heard via a conversation between Kelso and Brooke that Adam had moved to London, leaving Jackie behind.

Good for him. His ex had probably given the poor guy some crap ultimatum about marrying her and he decided he'd rather flee the country than choose a church and pick out a cake. Hyde wished he'd ran off to Europe instead of turning into a sappy mess and showing up in Chicago, mistakenly thinking she cared about what he thought was one of those romantic gestures she always begged him to do. What he wouldn't give to go back to that motel room and tackle Kelso down before he managed to escape; or, better yet, drive Jackie to Chicago himself and ensure Kelso kept his hands, tongue, lower parts and any other appendage off her.

Things sure came back around to bite you in the ass, hard.

It wasn't that he hated her, exactly. Hyde was certain he could never really hate Jackie Burkhart. Even when he was disgusted by how shallow and vain she was, he still couldn't bear to see her upset. And, after they broke up for the final time, the less she seemed to care, the more irritated he became at her detachment.

But he could still take satisfaction in her getting dumped. And that's all it was - sweet, simple satisfaction. Unlike Jagger, he could certainly get some of that.

It was going to be weird to have the whole gang back in the Formans'. He saw Fez maybe once every other year, if he was lucky. Excepting the previous fall, he saw Forman and Donna even less. Back when he was in Chicago and Brooke was still a Rockwell, he'd come back to his apartment every Tuesday night and find them waiting for him. Now that he was in St. Louis, they came down maybe a few times a year. Since leaving the city, Hyde avoided Chicago as much as he was able, sans a business trip here and there. But those kinds of things usually took him more coastal - the opposite coast from Jackie.

Thankfully.

One hour. He was nearly there.

He must have driven near 80 bars by now. It never got easier, seeing the neon sign boasting mouth-watering brews and spirits in his peripheral vision. He clenched the steering wheel each time he approached, using all his willpower to think about anything but ordering a tall one.

When it became particularly difficult and he found himself angling into the turnoff, the thought of Ade's ass kicking and Mrs. Forman's disappointed face set him back on course.

Ang may have mastered Jujutsu, but Ade might as well be a friggin' blackbelt. He'd already experienced her wrath once and wasn't looking to do so again.

Half an hour.

He'd had to plot out his route carefully, taking every precaution to avoid Chicago. Driving right by the city was faster, but there was also a greater chance of getting stuck in the blizzard. He wouldn't be helpful to anyone if he got stranded in the Windy City.

Twenty minutes.

At least he wouldn't be alone with Jackie. Maybe she'd sit next to Brooke in the backseat and Kelso could sit in the front with him. Or, better yet, Brooke could sit up front. Kelso would irk him before they left Iowa and Hyde couldn't keep frogging the idiot if they wanted to make it to Point Place in one piece. Brooke he could take in much heavier doses.

Shit. Did they have a car seat? It wasn't like when they were kids. They couldn't just have Betsy sit in Kelso's lap and hope for the best. Hell, she couldn't even sit in the regular seat with one of her parents holding her back. You could get in trouble for that now. It was either get a car seat, or get a cop in your face droning on about parental neglect.

He could just imagine Edna's face if she'd had to deal with the car seat regulations when he was a kid. First, she would have tried to flirt her way out and then when that didn't work, would fire a bunch of expletives at the officer - at which point she'd probably get arrested.

Ten minutes.

There it was, the sign pointing towards Davenport Municipal Airport. Nothing but greenery, greenery and more greenery. Oh, and what appeared to be a cow. Perfect target for cow-tipping later.

Eight minutes.

He could now see the outline of the airport and the severe lack of cars in the parking lot. In the distance, one of those feederliners was taking off, in a direction that clearly headed towards the sun and away from the Chicago sprinterstorm.

Five.

There was Kelso, standing and waving excitedly as his old friend spotted him coming up to the entrance of the airport. Hyde chuckled and gave a small wave back, smiling at his goddaughter as she screamed a loud "Goddad!" She looked much older than when he last saw them, though she was the same age. It was crazy how fast kids grew.

Three.

Brooke turned to identify what held her husband and daughter's captive attention. Spotting Hyde, she gave him a warm and undoubtedly relieved smile, mirroring that of her family's. She was much bigger than four months ago in St. Louis, when she had only just started to show.

Two.

And there was Jackie, who didn't look a day older than when she left for Madison, give or take her thicker heels and shorter hair. There was also an unmistakable tan that could only be the product of California sunshine.

He wondered if she still hit it. She was certainly aging better than Edna had, if she did. By the time Edna was his age, she was already looking old, a result of one too many drags, not to mention the numerous heroin injections.

Heroin was the one drug he never tried. You'd have to be an idiot to inject that kind of shit.

One.

Her eyes were just as animated, he noticed as they fell upon the Camino, albeit less so when she noticed who was waiting in the driver's seat.

He reached out a hand to roll down the window, keeping one hand steady on the steering wheel.

"Steven? What are you doing here? Where's Eric?"

She was expecting Forman? Great. This would be one hell of a car ride home.


	6. Chapter 6

Once at a dinner party he was forced to attend, Mrs. Forman asked where they would all fly if they suddenly became birds. At the time, he had wholeheartedly agreed with Red about flying into a ceiling fan, but if he were asked the same question now, his answer would be considerably different. At the particular moment, if he were a bird, preferably a hawk, he would fly the hell out of this car.

Normally, he loved being in the El Camino. He had a history with the car, his longtime companion. The Camino was there when the girls fled, when Fez's glamorous new career took him out of town, and then again when Forman and Donna decided to leave him behind and move west. It was the place he realized a little too late that he loved Jackie and the thing that took him far away to Vegas after he caught her cheating. It took him to the Grooves offices to meet his real dad and to St. Louis when WB decided it was time to introduce him to the Barnetts. Ade fell in love with the Camino before she had even been introduced to him; Ulysse clapped his shoulder and commented that he'd made a fine choice for a car. The Camino needed a few minor repairs over the years, particularly when not even a few months ago, some motorcyclist crashed into the bumper and caused Hyde to pay for a replacement because of course the person responsible was some big-shot government guy who said it wasn't his fault. Overall, though, the car had been very good to him. The Camino was his baby.

But at present, with Jackie sitting beside him in the passenger seat, he longed to be anywhere else. If he were a bird, specifically a vulture, he would fly to Newport, Pennsylvania in '52 and bite John W. Hetrick in the ass. It was Hetrick who invented the airbag and thus prevented a very pregnant Brooke Kelso from sitting beside Hyde, a fact he had forgotten when mentally deciding who could call shotgun.

So instead, he got to be stuck next to Jackie for the next three hours. That was just wonderful. It wasn't like he had anything better to do today.

Pregnant women used to be able to sit up front without worry. Those days were long gone. Now, experts were cautioning mothers-to-be about sitting near the airbag, on the off chance they actually got into a car crash and the airbag crushed the unborn kid - at least, that's what Kelso said. He'd refused for Brooke to sit up front and with her in the back and Kelso wanting to stay with his wife and child, there was nowhere else for Jackie to sit but up there, with him.

Which was friggin' fantastic.

It was the first and hopefully last time he considered getting a van. He'd always scoffed at the idea of the family car, but with Betsy in the car seat that Brooke had the foresight to pack and her parents on either side of her, the backseat that could normally cram four adults suddenly seemed much smaller.

If he were a bird, especially a raven, he'd fly up that stairway to heaven that Zep believed existed, discover the formula for time travel, hire some geek to actually create the teleportation device and then zap back to yesterday when he decided to head to Point Place two days early. He'd much rather risk the Chicago blizzard he'd tried so hard to avoid than go on a road trip with Kelso, who was currently playing on a handheld game device that emitted low, irritating whistling sounds. And, if that weren't bad enough, Jackie had to be in there, too.

This wasn't how he planned on seeing his ex-girlfriend again. He'd thought she'd come into the basement when they were all there and he could greet her from his chair with a nonchalant "Hey" and a nod. He'd also considered a different scenario: her entering the kitchen when they were all eating and he would give a detached nod. Or in the living room with the TV going, another nod. Whatever happened, there would certainly be more than four people in the room when she came in, making it easy for him to avoid her presence and barely acknowledge her entrance.

But his basement chair four hours away in Wisconsin and his ass planted firmly in the driver's seat of the Camino, mere inches from his ex-girlfriend? He definitely wasn't prepared for that. There was a certain vulnerability exposed with being placed in such close proximity to one's ex that made him rather uncomfortable. The shades could only hide so much. He was sweating right through his T-shirt and he was positive she noticed.

When she'd seen it was him in the car, she'd demanded to know where Eric's boney butt was. Somehow, she was under the impression that Forman would bring them to Point Place, although his mother hadn't mentioned anything of the sort.

"Nice to see you too, Jackie," he'd replied, as he noticed Kelso stowing their luggage in the popped trunk.

Hyde thought the diverted plane would result in Jackie screaming about the airline losing her luggage. Thankfully, it seemed the suitcases had flown to Davenport with them, as if the LA airline had known in advance that something would interrupt the planned trip to Chicago.

Airlines were probably just used to this sort of thing and had started taking every precaution if they heard anything about a brewing storm, although Hyde didn't understand why they hadn't cancelled the flight in the first place if that were indeed the case.

Money. It was all about money. Cancelling the flight would take away from the airline's paychecks and corporate America couldn't possibly risk that.

He wondered how the airlines were in other parts of the world and why he couldn't be there instead of here, listening to Kelso's idle chatter with his wife.

If he were a bird, a falcon to be exact, he'd fly to Japan and be far, far away from these Iowa roads.

The girls were probably better in Japan.

"Yeah. Hey, Steven," Jackie had responded before hopping into the backseat - until she was promptly pushed out by Kelso.

"Michael!" she'd screamed.

"Brooke's sitting back here with Betsy and I want to sit by them. You can have shotgun," he'd explained as he helped his wife strap in their daughter to her car seat.

"I hate you," he'd heard Jackie quietly whisper.

"Sure ya do," came Kelso's reply.

Jackie gave a frustrated shriek before opening the front side door and taking her place by Hyde.

That was 42 minutes ago and neither of them had said a word since. He was going to kill Kelso; that was, assuming Jackie wouldn't do it herself. She still looked pissed at having her seat stolen, almost as irked as Hyde was that it wasn't Brooke sitting next to him instead.

The man who would turn him into a murderer in the near future was presently cooing to his daughter - and that wasn't all he was doing. Hyde quickly glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Kelso stroking the hair of a sleeping Brooke, while using his other hand to play a silent game of Patty Cake with Betsy.

Had he not seen it for himself, Hyde would have never believed that the former player was now such a family man.

Forman, he'd expected it from - the guy who was so soft, he crumbled at the sight of a possum lying on the side of the road. But Kelso? Jackie-cheating, Pam Macy-loving, wannabe astronaut robot model Kelso? No, not in a million years.

The more he saw how his friends or family acted in their marriages, the stranger the whole institution became. He'd grown up with the firm belief that nothing good came from the exchange of rings that capitalists called a wedding. But the way he saw Michael Kelso look at Brooke Rockwell and his daughter Betsy every time he was around them, well, it kept challenging that idea.

And he didn't like it one bit.

Hyde hurriedly side-eyed Jackie and saw that she was examining her nails. Well, at least she hadn't changed.

The silence was deafening. Hyde reached over and turned on the radio, anticipating Jackie's demand to change the station and his response suggesting she get bent.

"Oh! Turn it up! I love this song!" Jackie spoke, the first time in 46 minutes, which Hyde was sure must be a record for her. Jackie was never one to stay silent. It was unsettling for her to be so quiet and the idea that he cared was even more disturbing.

"You love this song?" he asked, surprised.

"Yeah!" she nodded, as she sang - badly - to _Anything for You_ , by Tiny Grasshopper.

" _Oh doll, you and I were one._

_And now we're too far gone._

_But I always said I'd do anything for you."_

He'd recognized Gil's voice the second the radio static had found a station, the result of many nights listening to the band recording the very song the DJ was now playing. Following Gil's latest breakup, Hyde came into the studio to find him drunk and distraught, refusing to work on the band's album. To save their record deal and persuade the man his life was still worth living, Hyde had revealed a bit too much of his past with Jackie, thinking Gil was too wasted to remember their conversation.

He was right, sort of. Gil was too drunk to remember anything that happened that night, but he somehow recalled enough information to lyricize Hyde's past relationship in the band's new song - the same one Jackie was currently singing.

Surely she hadn't caught on to the meaning behind the lyrics yet. If he were lucky, she never would.

He certainly hadn't taken her for a Tiny Grasshopper fan. Their style was much closer to Zep than to ABBA, a style that Jackie usually didn't appreciate.

"Hey, Hyde, isn't that Gil?" Kelso asked.

"Gil?" Jackie asked. "Wait, you know Gilbert Hopps? The lead singer of Tiny Grasshopper?"

"Yeah," Hyde said, shrugging. "It's no big deal."

"No big deal? You're his friggin' record producer! It's a huge deal!" Kelso said.

If Jackie were able to piece together this new information with the song lyrics and figure out that the words were about her, he would pull over and bury Kelso alive before they reached Wisconsin.

"Record producer? You're a record producer?" Jackie asked.

"He founded Fighting the Man Records!" Kelso said.

Dammit. Now he'd have to talk to Jackie. So much for peaceful silence.

"Yeah," Hyde said.

"Wow. I always knew you could be great if you just set your mind to it, but this is incredible," Jackie said.

"Thanks. I mean, Angie helped with the name and I met some contacts through Grooves," Hyde said with another shrug, which he hoped would keep Jackie from noticing his heart slamming against his chest after her compliment. They'd ended on such bad terms, he hadn't expected for her to still believe in his future. It gave him a warm feeling to know that she hadn't lost her determination that he could be successful, despite their current standing with each other.

"That's amazing. A music label, huh? I should have known. You were always wearing those ratty old band shirts," Jackie said.

He wondered if she were thinking about one band shirt in particular, like he was.

"So...uh. I heard you moved to California?" he asked, deciding it was too late to avoid small talk, thanks to Kelso's big mouth.

"Yep," she nodded. "I'm studying Communications at UCLA."

"UCLA, huh?" Ah, Los Angeles. That answered that question. He'd thought it was somewhere in San Diego, LA, Santa Barbara or San Fran. It was nice to no longer have to try to piece together the details he overheard from the others and get the knowledge directly from her instead.

"Mhm! And I'm doing an internship at a TV studio."

"Oh yeah, Mrs. Forman said something about that. It's for a soap opera, right? _Gomer's Hospital_?"

" _General Hospital_ , actually."

"Right, that one everyone was talking about last year. I knew that. I heard her mention it during a rerun of _Gomer Pyle_. Guess I got mixed up."

"Wait. You watch _Gomer Pyle_?"

"Nah, man. Mrs. Forman was watchin' it with one of her friends when I just happened to walk in. He reminds me of Kelso," Hyde said, keeping an eye on the car riding their taillight.

"Nuh-uh! I'm way prettier than Gomer Pyle!" Kelso called from the back.

"I can see that," Jackie said, ignoring Kelso's interruption.

"Gotta admit, I didn't take you for a college type. Didn't you say college is for ugly girls?" Hyde asked.

"No, that was me," Kelso said. "Before I met Brooke," he hastily added on the chance his wife awoke and heard his confession.

"Reading is for ugly girls," Jackie corrected. "Well, except Brooke and Betsy, of course. College is for beautiful people whose rich dads get thrown in prison, have their assets frozen after they graduate high school and want something more in life than being poor and sweeping hair at the beauty salon. And for dorks like Eric and Donna."

He knew she'd been depressed for most of the latter half of '79, though he had vehemently denied it to himself. He'd been certain her funk wouldn't last long, and he was right. Jackie always pushed him to get married; he, on the other hand, knew she was capable of so much more and had a bright future waiting for her outside dreary Point Place, the one-horse town that severely lacked any diversity.

She thought he didn't want to marry her because of the institution. She wasn't wrong; he did hate the idea of marriage and did firmly believe it was all a government scam, but that wasn't the main reason he wouldn't commit. Aside from the fact that he was friggin' 19 when she first brought it up and was more focused on avoiding the slammer than planning a future with kids, he'd also wanted her to see she could do so much better. And now she had. Jackie Burkhart was always destined for greatness - didn't she say as much herself, so many times that he quickly lost count?

"You like it?" Hyde asked.

"Yeah," Jackie nodded with a smile, "I really do."

"Good," he said.

"Oh, wow. I guess I was exhausted after the flight. How long did I sleep?" Brooke asked as she awoke. She stretched out her arms in a deep yawn, narrowly avoiding whacking her husband.

"A whole hour," Jackie responded.

"An hour? Damn!"

"Yeah, you conked out as soon as we started pulling out of the airport," Kelso said, giving her a lovesick grin.

"Welcome back to the Camino," Hyde said. "Have a nice visit to Dreamland?"

"Yes, it was amazing. I actually got to walk through the halls of the Library of Alexandria. I was _this close_ to finding Hypatia's lost writings," Brooke said, appearing annoyed that she had woken up before successfully completing her quest.

"Please tell me there was at least a unicorn working the reference desk," Jackie said.

"Nope. No unicorns in this dream."

"A fairy princess?"

"Nuh-uh, not any of them, either."

"Who's Hypatia?" Hyde asked.

"She was this really hot chick who was a whiz at math," Kelso said.

Both Hyde and Jackie gaped at him through the rearview mirror.

"Brooke told me," he said.

Hyde nodded. That explained it.

"Aww, Michael, you remembered," Brooke said.

"I remember everything you tell me, babe," Kelso replied.

Brooke gave him a look indicating she knew he was being dishonest and didn't appreciate the fib.

"Okay, I remember most things you tell me," he amended.

Still, the look remained.

"Fine! I remember like 30 percent of what you tell me. But you showed me that picture of Hypatia when you were putting together that library presentation of powerful women in ancient Egypt for Smokin' Chicks Week - I mean, Influential Women's Week - and I thought, 'wow, I'd do it with her.' So she's easy for me to remember."

"Michael. That's so sexist," Brooke said.

"Oh don't worry, I wouldn't leave you for her even if I had a time machine and had the capability to do that."

"I want to hear more about Hypatia," Jackie said.

"Me, too," Hyde said, stunning everyone in the car that the two had agreed on something.

Brooke was more than happy to comply. "So Hypatia was born between 350 and 370 AD in Alex and she was this brilliant mathematician, astronomer and philosopher - one of the earliest female mathematicians, actually. She was also the leading mathematician and astronomer in the world during her time and the only woman who has ever been able to claim that title - well, so far, anyway; Betsy will probably be able to boast the same in the future if she keeps going like she is. But Hypatia was even a university professor. Scholars call her murder the end of the classical world. Many of her works, including an astronomical table, were lost when the library was sacked and burned thanks to Cyril."

"So, she basically ruled the world?" Jackie asked.

"Well, no, not really...but you could say she reigned supreme in the science world...I guess?"

"Oh, I like her," Jackie said.

"And that just filled 15 minutes. Thanks for marrying such a smart woman," Hyde told Kelso.

"Welcome," the goofball grinned, as he kept his eyes locked on Brooke's. A look of pride at his wife's intelligence shone clearly in his gaze, which wasn't a reaction that Hyde would normally associate with Kelso and anything dealing with book smarts.

Of all the girls he thought Kelso would knock up, he would have never pictured it would be one who got so excited over ancient Egyptian math.

He was glad his goddaughter could call such an amazing woman her mother. Betsy would take after Brooke more, there was little doubt about that. She did have some of her father's qualities, but it seemed to involve pranking and general silliness, not idiotic stunts like burning down police academies or wearing shock dog collars just to see how they felt, then wandering in to police chief offices after dark to find out if they were nicknamed a stooge.

They'd made it to Dubuque. Another hour and a half and they'd be in Madison.

"I'm hungry," Kelso said.

Dammit.

"We'll be in Madison soon, can you wait?" Hyde asked.

"No man, I'm really hungry!" Kelso replied.

"Steven, that sign says there's a Wendy's off the next exit," Jackie said.

"I don't want Wendy's," Kelso said.

"There's a Burger King, too."

"I don't want that, either."

"McDonald's?"

"Ugh, no."

Jackie sighed. "Okay, Michael, what would you like to eat?"

"Chinese!" Kelso said. "I want some Lo Mein."

"C'mon man, that'll take too long and we're not even halfway. We can't afford to lose time sittin' in a restaurant. Can't you get some DQ or something? Mrs. Forman's planning a big dinner," Hyde said.

"I want In-N-Out," Kelso said.

"You're gonna have to go back to California for that," Jackie said.

"Or they could just get one out here," he told her.

"Never gonna happen, man," came Hyde's reply.

"Well I'm still hungry!"

"I'se hungwy too!" Betsy piped up.

Hyde noticed as Brooke looked at her watch. "Well, it is a couple hours past lunchtime and we haven't had anything decent all day, since _someone_ forgot to set the alarm," she said, looking at Kelso.

"Hey! Don't blame me! It's Jackie's apartment. She shoulda set the alarm," he replied.

"I offered. You said last night you would do it, Michael!" Jackie said.

"You should all know better than to trust that I would remember that," Kelso pointed out.

Brooke shook her head. "Hyde, go ahead and pull into DQ. We'll get something to tide us over until dinner and Michael can just deal with it."

"Have I mentioned how much I like her?" Hyde asked Kelso as he exited the highway and headed for the drive-thru.

"Mm yeah, you've said it a few times," he replied.

"Everyone likes Brooke. Even Eric likes her and she wouldn't let him check out porn!" Jackie said.

"And he's a better man for it. I stand by my decision," Brooke told them.

Ever since he'd been denied access to the Playboys, Forman's addiction to porn had lessened considerably, so Hyde supposed he should thank her for that. For one, more Playboys for him. And secondly, if she could get Fez to dial down his candy addiction, the woman really would be a miracle worker.

But considering Fez could now boast a side job in a candy factory, that didn't seem likely.

"Alright, whatta we want?" Hyde asked, entering the line of cars. It was rare that he could go to DQ and not have to wait, though the probability was much higher than trying to get through a drive-thru at Mickey D's.

"Two cheeseburgers, one tray of chicken nuggets, a Root Beer and a Blizzard. Oh, and get a nugget kid's meal for Betsy and a deluxe burger with everything on it for Michael, both with Root Beers," Brooke said, digging into the front pocket of her travel pack and producing the cash for her family's meal.

Hyde stared at her.

"Hey, don't judge. You try eating for two," Brooke said.

"I'm good," Hyde said, turning slightly to look at Jackie.

"You want anything?" he asked.

"I'll take a salad and a Sprite," she said, handing him the cash.

Hyde was pleased to find the line moving rather quickly and soon found himself speaking their orders into the intercom. He'd eaten just before hitting Davenport and decided to forego a second lunch.

"Sorry, sir, can you repeat that?"

Hyde gave the order again.

"Sir, we're having problems with the audio on our intercom system. Can you please pull up to the second window and we'll be able to take care of you there?"

He groaned. At this rate, they'd be lucky to reach Wisconsin before nightfall, let alone the Forman residence.

It was not even ten minutes later when Hyde decided the kid at the second window must be new. The teen had repeatedly struggled to count change and asked for their orders a third time, before the manager stepped in.

After a profuse apology for their wait, the mix-up and an offer of free ice-cream for Betsy, they were finally able to roll out of the DQ line and back to the highway.

He hoped the kid didn't get fired, but instead could use the instance as a learning experience. Judging by the manager's face when they left, however, the former was inevitable.

"There. You happy, Kelso?" Hyde asked, looking as the man in question chomped down on his burger.

"Yep! Thanks, buddy," he replied through a mouthful of meat and lettuce.

"Ew! Michael, close your mouth when you chew like that," Jackie said.

"Like me, Daddy!" Betsy said as she daintily took a small bite of her chicken nugget and chewed softly behind closed lips.

"Bets, that's no way to enjoy a meal," Kelso told her.

"Don't listen to Daddy. That's a lovely way to eat your lunch. He could learn from you," Brooke said.

"Brooke!"

"A three year old's table manners are better than yours, Michael."

"We're not at a table."

Brooke sighed and took a bite out of her own cheeseburger, just as cleanly as Betsy had.

"And I could have had Miles David," she murmured, so low Hyde could just barely make out what she had said.

"I heard that!" Kelso said.

Brooke shrugged and kept eating, giving him a small grin through her fork.

"You should have seen them when they visited the studio," Jackie told Hyde, "Michael tried to hit on Demi Moore and she turned him down flat. But Rick Springfield was majorly into Brooke."

"Jackie! We don't say that name!" came Kelso's annoyed voice.

"Who's Demi Moore?" Hyde asked.

"She's Jackie Templeton on the show, but you probably don't know who that is."

"Oh, that reporter chick?"

Jackie gave him a surprised look.

"Donna had on an episode yesterday and some guy called some woman Jackie. I asked her who that was and she said someone named Moore, but she wasn't sure of the exact name," Hyde explained.

"Yeah, she's Jackie," answered the woman of the same name.

Hyde didn't tell her how weird it was to hear her name on the TV. He'd turned around to see if it was his ex discussing her life in some talk show where the host wore far too much lipstick, but instead found himself looking at a different woman with dark hair, who he now knew as Demi Moore.

"Wait. Donna watched GH?" Jackie asked, having taken a second to comprehend the exact wording of his statement.

"Yeah. She was watchin' it with Mrs. Forman," he said.

"I thought she doesn't watch soaps."

"She watches that one, but only because you work on it."

"Really? I didn't know she cared," Jackie said, the hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"Donna? Oh yeah, she tells everyone about your job," Hyde said.

"So you just happened to see Jackie Templeton when both Donna and Mrs. Forman just happened to be watching this show I didn't know they watch?" Jackie asked, suspicious.

"She's hot," he quickly changed the subject.

"Man, you should have seen her. She is one fine chick. I told her I was taken," Kelso said.

"And she told him he was in her way," Jackie added.

"Really? I like her already," Hyde said.

"Jackie! Stop telling everybody everything about me!" Kelso said.

"But, Michael, you love when people talk about you," she said.

"Not like this," he replied.

"So you're okay with everyone knowing you pantsed Rick and got arrested for it, but it's not okay for Hyde to know that Demi Moore wasn't interested in you?"

"Exactly," Kelso said.

"Too late, man," Hyde said. "I'm going to tell Forman, Donna and Fez all about the Hollywood chick who didn't care you were Michael Kelso. I might even tell Red and Mrs. Forman."

"You wouldn't!" Kelso said.

"If we don't make it back to Point Place before the storm hits because you made us stop at DQ, I'll have no problem with doin' it," Hyde said.

"Then I'll tell everyone what Leo told me about you two years ago!"

A silence fell over the car, Hyde tensing as he wondered what the man had told Kelso. He couldn't even think of what he had told Leo back then that Kelso could use as leverage. There were few things of importance the two discussed that year - mostly the usual talk of UFO's and secret government cars that ran on water - but there was the night after a bit too many beers that he confided his plan to get Jackie back. Leo couldn't have told Kelso that, could he? And why would he tell him in the first place?

The "why" actually wasn't that hard to comprehend - a drugged stupor seemed the likely factor. But it was still very unlike Leo to reveal classified information, especially to Kelso. Surely the man was just trying to get to him. He didn't know anything - did he?

Even if he did, Hyde couldn't lose his cool. The important thing was that was two years ago and he was completely over Jackie now.

Completely.

"Let's listen to the radio!" Brooke suggested, trying to ease the tension.

"Great idea," Jackie said, reaching for the button.

" _You come to look for a king_

_Anybody could be that guy_ "

"No. No way. We are not listening to ABBA," Hyde said, changing the station.

" _Ain't too proud to beg, sweet darlin'._

_Please don't leave me, don't you go_."

"Hyde, ABBA is one of the biggest musical geniuses of the century, with legions of fans and killer vocals. They've been topping the charts worldwide for nearly a decade. You just can't recognize good music," Jackie said, turning it back.

" _You are the dancing queen,_

_Young and sweet,_

_Only seventeen_."

"Sure, Jackie. I own a music label I found myself, co-manage Grooves and signed on Tiny Grasshopper, the band you said you love, but I don't know good music," he said, changing it back to the Stones.

"Well, not outside Tiny Grasshopper," Jackie said, changing it again.

Their arguing and station switching continued for a good few minutes more before Hyde suddenly had a cassette tape shoved in his face.

"Brooke, what the hell?" he asked.

"You two can't agree on a station, so we're listening to this," she said.

"Fine," he said, popping it into the 8-track. There was no use in trying to argue with Brooke. It was almost as fruitless as debating with Jackie, although he could usually get the upper hand in that scenario, sans a bolo tie here and a Christmas dance there. It didn't work that way with Brooke. She somehow managed to win, every time.

Of course, it helped that her music taste made up for Jackie's tenfold. He had a lot more respect for a woman who could appreciate Jethro Tull like Brooke did.

It was no wonder Betsy was conceived at a Molly Hatchet concert when her mother's favorite band was Lynyrd Skynyrd.

" _The Itsy Bitsy Spider went up the water spout_

_Down came the rain and washed the spider out_

_Up came the sun and dried up all the rain_ "

"Brooke! What is this?" Jackie asked.

"Betsy's favorite tape. You're welcome," she answered.

"We're not listening to that," Jackie said.

"You want your favorite goddaughter happy, don't you?" Brooke asked.

As if on cue, Betsy's eyes started to well up, just as they finally crossed the border into Wisconsin and the Three Blind Mice started to run.

Hyde and Jackie quickly exchanged a look before returning to stare outside their respective windows. Those Rockwell girls really knew how to persuade someone into letting them have their way, although they tended to do it a lot more subtly than both his exes ever did.

He'd known since the first day he saw a very tiny Betsy who almost fit into his palm that the girl would have him conned from the start, and three years later, his belief was proven correct. Ordinarily and with any other female, he'd put up his guard and not be so easily manipulated, but with Betsy, he wasn't ashamed to admit he loved her more than he did anyone else in the world and didn't mind getting played.

Still, there were certain things that could change when it came to his goddaughter, specifically her musical taste. The tape was full of screeching vocals, bad guitar playing and song choices that almost made him want to turn the radio back on to ABBA.

Cheesy lyrics aside, at least they could carry a tune - not that he would ever admit that to Jackie.


	7. Chapter 7

Of all the things she'd imagined when she decided to return to Point Place, agony was not one of them. Yet, at this precise moment in time, it was exactly what she was experiencing.

Children often complained about long road trips, consistently inquiring of their parents if they had reached their destinations, longing to get out of the vehicle and stretch legs stiff from hours crossed in the same position.

But no one truly knew the horrors of staying in a car for four hours until they were stuck in the passenger seat by their ex with no way to escape, short of opening the car door and risking injury as they went about 80 miles an hour.

The heart palpitations began the moment she stepped foot in the Camino and took a seat next to him. Steven, on the other hand; he was as Zen as ever, giving nothing away, still wearing those damn shades that hid his beautiful blue eyes from everyone.

When they were dating, she'd devised a plan to destroy those glasses that actually never came to fruition. Her inability to follow through on ridding the world of Hyde's shades was something she regretted considerably.

Jackie was fully prepared to sit next to Brooke for the duration of the trip and was still upset with Michael for changing the seating arrangement just because he decided Steven was suddenly a careless driver and would ram the Camino into a tree.

Who was the guy who invented the airbag? She'd like to kick him in the shin.

Other than the quibble with Hyde which Brooke ended immediately, Jackie spent the majority of the trip staring out the window and cursing Iowa for all its rows of corn. Although lacking in half as many cornfields, Wisconsin wasn't much better. Its leafen scenery could be considered picturesque to many visitors, especially in the fall season, but to Jackie, it was just a further step away from paradise.

She missed the Hollywood Hills sign or the view from Santa Monica when she drove by the beach with her friends. She wistfully thought of the turnoff that led into Beverly Hills, the area that several of her coworkers called home. She even missed the panhandlers making their way through LA traffic, only to be run off by infuriated drivers.

She could walk Rodeo Drive, or eat lunch at The Grove or Mel's. It wasn't always like that. Her ventures into the activities of the wealthy didn't come along until her coworkers and bosses invited her to events outside of work, but her days lounging around Venice Beach and watching her classmates learn a new trick on their surfboards were just as wonderful as she knew her June 26th evening at the Hollywood Bowl would be.

The sad thing was, it had only been half a day since they left California and she already longed to return.

These next couple of weeks would kill her, she was sure of it. The one consolation was being able to spend more time with her goddaughter and Brooke - and, of course, the Formans.

That was the one thing she didn't like about the Golden State - the distance from the Kelsos. Once the new baby came, she'd see them even less, at least until the kid was around Betsy's age and would be more likely to behave on long-distance flights.

She resolved to spend as much time with them as possible before the delivery, even if it meant flying to Chicago much more often than she liked.

Chicago, after all, was another event that haunted her nightmares.

"I want an ice-cream cone!" Kelso said as they drove past the ubiquitous McDonald's, the restaurant's Golden Arches sign lighting up the dusky evening sky.

"Kelso! No! I asked you half an hour ago if you wanted anything when we drove past yet another Mickey D's and you said you were good. You lost your chance. Shoulda gotten it then," Hyde said.

"But I didn't want anything half an hour ago," Kelso replied.

"Too late," he shrugged.

"Michael, I'm sure Mrs. Forman will have some cookies for you," Jackie said, sharing a look with Betsy, who seemed to think her father was ridiculous asking for an ice-cream when she hadn't done so once.

If Brooke weren't currently sleeping, Jackie was certain she'd have a look matching her daughter's. Kelso's cravings were far more frequent than his wife's, almost as if he were carrying their second child instead of her.

Whomever she ended up marrying, she would not let him steal her pregnancy spotlight the way Kelso was attempting.

"Maybe if you're good, we'll stop by Fatso Burger," Jackie added.

"I don't want Fatso Burger," Kelso said. "Especially not at this time of the night. You take one look at Fatso and you'll start screaming."

"Michael!" Jackie said.

He just didn't understand the abundance of nightmares that followed their asinine decision to steal Fatso the Clown.

If she never saw the creature again, it would be far too soon.

Contrary to the nation's belief, the famous Bobo the Clown wasn't any better and she often mixed up the two in her thoughts.

Clowns were just unnatural. Jackie never believed there could be such a thing as wearing too much makeup until her first trip to the circus.

Jack bought her everything she wanted that day, including a stuffed lion and a pink cotton candy filled with the sweetest treat, but even the sticky dessert couldn't detract from the horror that followed. It was the sickeningly sweet smiles of the clowns and their hideous flowered pant suits that continued to stand out and created her hatred of the circus.

Besides, beautiful animals like tigers should not be left in cages.

That kind of thing was meant more for ugly animals, such as snakes and tarantulas.

Betsy took her father's hand in her much smaller one. "Daddy! Be qwiet. You gonna wake Mommy."

"Yeah, Daddy. Be quiet," Hyde seconded, turning off the highway in the direction of Point Place.

Once they got in to town, it wouldn't be much longer until they arrived at the Forman place and Jackie could finally get out of the damn car.

With the rest of the gang hanging around, it would be much less likely that she and Steven would have another moment together by themselves, which was perfectly fine and highly desirable.

"Looks the same," Jackie softly commented as they drove past the old high school. In the distance, she could see the lights showering the football field in a harsh glow that minimized the impending darkness. It seemed that the Vikings were in the midst of a game and if the team acted anything like the one she spent so many long, arduous nights cheering for, they would lose before they even made it to halftime.

Vikings the footballers of Point Place High were not, regardless of their mascot. Sloths would be a much more accurate depiction, for they tended to walk more than sprint across the field.

"Yeah," Hyde agreed, "this place never changes."

"Never," Jackie echoed.

She watched as the familiar streets came into view, staring particularly at the stop sign leading down the road to the mansion that used to belong to her family.

The place admittedly held some good memories. Most of her childhood moments spent in the mansion, usually without her parents and accompanied by her nanny or one of the maids, were enveloped in a strong sense of loneliness that tended to drown out the happy memories she had with her parents. But she couldn't deny that there were other times when she could feel her Daddy's affection, like when he built a ballet barre in the basement for her to practice. Even rarer still were the moments that held some semblance of her mother's love, like when Pam surprised her with a new vanity for her sixth birthday.

Despite the moments of sadness outweighing all the rest, Jackie knew her childhood could have been worse. Her nanny stayed with her because her father worked overtime to ensure that she could have the best life possible. It wasn't as if she grew up poor, like Steven.

Jack once promised her that as long as he was alive, she would never know a life of destitution. And, despite losing her father to prison and her mother to the cabana boys, she never had.

She supposed that was something to be grateful for.

Finally, the Camino turned down the appropriate street. Jackie smiled as the quaint two-story house that she'd spent all of her free time in during her adolescence seemed to smile back at her in all its warmth.

Or maybe it was because of what she knew was awaiting her inside.

"Hey, Brooke? Babe, we're here," Kelso said quietly, shaking his wife awake.

"Mm, mm, I'm up! I'm up," she told him, sitting forward to unbuckle Betsy from her car seat.

"We woulda been here sooner, but someone had to use the bathroom five times," Hyde said, looking directly at Kelso.

"It was a long flight! And then we had to wait four hours for you to show up! I thought we were gonna starve to death!" he defended.

"Michael, there was food in the airport," Jackie reminded him, "and you ate it. You weren't gonna starve."

"Hey, you should be glad I came at all," Hyde told him, shutting off the engine before pulling up the emergency brake. He stretched his arms and Jackie tried not to notice the way his shirt rippled over his muscles.

She wondered why he was so fit. Surely he was due to develop a beer belly by now. She was certain he never wasted time going to the gym and lifting weights.

This whole thing would be much easier if he had a receding hairline or teeth worn down by years of partying and badly in need of dentures.

Sadly, he claimed neither of those.

Whatever happened, she couldn't let him catch her staring. Jackie turned slightly in her seat to better ensure she could lay all her focus on her friends and away from her ex, who she hoped hadn't noticed her previous line of vision.

"Thank you, Hyde," Brooke said, lifting Betsy into her arms. "Michael," she told her husband, "I'm gonna get Betsy inside the house. You bring in our luggage."

"Why can't Hyde do it?" Kelso asked.

"He's had a long drive," Brooke informed him, reaching into her purse before retracting her hand. "And please get Marabelle; she doesn't seem to be in here."

"I had a long drive, too!" Kelso said, reaching to the floor and emerging with Jackie's old Mr. Fluffycakes, who now carried the name of 'Marabelle.'

"Here ya go, Bets," he said.

Betsy grinned and took the pink unicorn, holding the animal tightly in her arms as she snuggled closely to her mother.

"That's your fault. If you hadn't tried to trick me into stopping at every gas station within a 10-mile radius from Kenosha to Point Place, it wouldn't have taken nearly as long," Hyde pointed out.

"And Hyde did the actual driving," Brooke added.

"Thanks, Brooke," he said.

"Everyone's against me! Even my own wife has turned to the other side," Kelso said, climbing out of the car. He waited for Hyde to unlock the trunk and then started pulling out the suitcases.

"Did you have to bring so much stuff?" Hyde asked his ex-girlfriend, glancing at the six bags now on the ground and the three still in the trunk.

"Excuse you. Only three of these are mine," Jackie said.

Brooke looked at Hyde. "Oh, I hope someday you travel with a three-year-old girl and have to pack for her and your fashion-obsessed spouse."

"A man's gotta look good, Brooke," Kelso said, removing the last of the luggage. "Oh, who am I kidding? I don't need things to look good. I'm already made that way," he added.

Jackie rolled her eyes and opened the unlocked screen door to the Forman's kitchen.

The blaring noise of the television drowned out the voices from the other room. She was happy to spot a familiar face clearing away the dinner dishes, while simultaneously irritated at Michael that his numerous pit stops caused them to miss dinner.

The woman turned from the sink to look for the source of the sudden blast of cold into an otherwise warm kitchen.

"Jackie's home!" Kitty exclaimed, running over to give her a hug and nearly barreling into the girl in her excitement.

"Hi, Mrs. Forman!" Jackie said, gratefully accepting the embrace. She'd received so few hugs from her mother when she was growing up that she always appreciated the woman's affectionate greetings.

"Jackie, you must tell me everything about California! I want to know about your job, any spoilers you can tell me from the show, the view from your apartment at sunset, whether you're eating enough because goodness you're thin and oh! Does your apartment have enough locks? Because, you know, I read that the LAPD is frequently catching people rifling through apartments that aren't theirs…"

Jackie smiled, delighted to be back with the woman she considered her mother.

"And those girls really need to stop bleaching their hair; I'm sure their natural color is beautiful - Brooke!" Kitty cut into her own dialogue, running over to greet the tall brunette the same way she had Jackie.

"Hello Mrs. Forman! It's so great to see you!" Brooke said.

"What about one for me?" Kelso asked, joining the three in the kitchen.

"Michael!" Kitty said, throwing herself at him.

Hugs were given all around, until Hyde shut the screen door and refused to accept Mrs. Forman's embrace since he told her he'd already submitted to one when he first arrived.

"Betsy! There's my beautiful girl!" Kitty said, recovering quickly from her disappointment as she took the three-year-old from Brooke.

"Gramma Kitty!" Betsy said, kissing the woman's cheek.

"Oh I'm so glad you brought her to me before Summer," Kitty told Kelso.

"Mom's schedule has been pretty hectic at the studio lately. I'm sure the only people over at the house right now are Jamie and Casey, and I have no desire to see them before you guys. They like to use Betsy as a football," he explained as he looked around the kitchen.

"So you got any food? I'm starving!" he added.

"Kelso, you just ate a steakburger two hours ago," Hyde told him.

His friend shrugged and walked over to poke his head in the fridge. "So? I can still be hungry."

Hyde shook his head.

"Oh, well you missed dinner - I tried to delay it, but well, the meatloaf was getting cold and Red doesn't like his mashed potatoes microwaved - but there's leftovers in the fridge," Kitty said with an apologetic look.

"Perfect!" Kelso said, pulling out various containers and setting them on the counter. "I'm gonna make you something good, Brooke."

His wife exchanged a worried glance with Kitty. "I'm afraid to ask," she said.

"Don't worry. This will be good," Kelso promised as he removed the twist tie from the bread bag and grabbed a few slices off the top, including the heel.

"We'll see about that," Brooke said.

Jackie laughed and crossed the kitchen to open the swinging door to the living room. Her guess was proven correct; the others were all hanging out in there, with some show playing on the television.

She skimmed over the room. The old armchair sat in the corner as it always had, casting a dreadful olive green light on the room. The flowered yellow sofa was currently occupied and it seemed everyone had arrived - even Fez, who just a few weeks ago told her over the phone that he would not do so until tomorrow.

"I'm here!" Jackie said, posing in the doorway. "I know you all missed me. Your lives must be so dull when I'm not around."

Eric snorted.

"Someone call Georgia," he said from his position on the living room floor, where he was sitting cross-legged with his hand in Donna's.

Looking comfortable curled up on the sofa, Donna looked up briefly to smile at Jackie before returning to her book.

"Why would anyone call Georgia?" Kelso asked as he walked into the living room. "It's way too hot and the girls won't even take their tops off."

"Kelso! That's a generalization. I'm sure some Georgia girls are happy to go topless," Hyde said from behind him.

"I could make them go topless," Fez said, grinning from his spot on the piano bench.

"I, for one, would like to discuss something other than whether women choose to go topless," Brooke said, entering behind Hyde.

"I agree," Donna said.

"Shut up before I put my foot in all of your asses," Red said as he folded his newspaper and lay it on the table. "If you really think I'm going to sit here and listen to Hophead, Moron, Mush-Mouth and Steven talk about the poor women they'd like to take to bed, you're idiots."

"What did I do?" Eric asked, offended to be included with the men who were actually talking about the girls.

"You brought up Georgia and made the Three Dumbasses over here lust after its women," his dad replied.

"Only because I think they oughta know they're missing their Devil!" Eric explained.

The others looked at him in confusion.

"Get it? Because the Devil went down to Georgia? And Jackie's the Devil?"

His joke was met with silence as the others continued to stare.

"It's funny!" Eric said with a wave of his hands.

Red sighed and stood from his armchair. "Eric, we have been over this and over this. A joke isn't funny if it has to be explained."

"That's a terrible burn. This one's much better. Hey, Jackie must like chocolate," Fez said.

"Everyone knows I like chocolate," Jackie said, not at all impressed, as she stood on her tiptoes to give Mr. Forman a kiss on the cheek.

"But do they know why?" Fez asked, as the older man grunted in embarrassment and told Kelso that the dumbass better not touch his beer, especially since he still owed him 20 bucks for the last two six-packs he'd stolen.

"No, why?" Eric asked.

"Because she's Devil's Food!" Fez said.

"Hey!" Jackie said.

"No man, that's lame," Kelso said. "You can't just say any insult and label it a burn. You gotta really think about it - like this. Damn, Jackie is spicy!"

"What? Why?" Fez asked.

"Because she's made with Red Devil hot sauce!" Kelso told him.

"Michael!" Jackie said.

"Oh, excellent!" Eric said, clapping his hands.

"Great burn, my friend," Fez remarked as he joined in with Eric's clapping.

"You are the king," the former added.

"Will you shut up!" Red roared. "Enough about Jackie being the Devil. Goddamit, you kids get dumber by the day. I knew I should have sent you to military school."

"Red! Language!" Kitty said, entering the room with Betsy in her arms. She covered the little girl's ears as she looked at her husband.

Laughing, Jackie glanced at her goddaughter and noticed the girl's hands were stained with chocolate. She had seen a tray of Kitty's chocolate chip cookies in the kitchen and decided the woman must have treated Betsy to one of the delicious desserts.

No one made cookies like Mrs. Forman. She tried and failed, many times. Adam knew how to bake an excellent batch, as did Brooke, but even their baking skills didn't come close to the older woman's.

"But, Kitty! You should have heard the way they were going on about hot sauce and women in Georgia," Red defended.

Kitty turned an alarmed gaze on her husband. "Red Forman! You didn't tell them about what we did in Georgia, did you?"

Eric's eyes widened as he looked at his parents. "What did you do in Georgia?"

"Nothing," Red cleared his throat, "nothing at all."

His son's response indicated that he'd prefer to avoid food for the next few weeks.

"Hey, Lumberjack!" Jackie called as she walked over to Donna, "your book cannot possibly be more interesting than me. Are you gonna stand up and give me a hug, or do I have to force you?"

Donna smiled and stood to embrace her friend. "Good to see ya, Midget."

"So, what am I having? Nephew or niece?" Jackie asked, her eyes on Donna's midsection.

"Neither," Eric said. "You're not his aunt."

"Hey!" Jackie said. "I'm gonna spoil this kid and you know it. You might as well just give me the title."

"I'm kidding," Eric grinned. "Donna would kick my ass if I didn't let you claim aunt-ship."

"That's right," Donna said.

"That's more like it," Jackie said. "So it's a boy?"

"Yes, it's a boy, and I think he wants that new Space Command Center Lego set. Wanna get on that, Jackie?"

"Eric," Donna said, exasperated. "He's been talking about that toy all week," she explained to her friend.

"Space Command Centers aren't toys, Donna! They're military bases!" Eric said.

"Don't disgrace the good name of the US military with that final frontier stuff," Red told his son.

"Final Frontier?" a horrified Eric asked. "That's Star Trek! Dad, how can you mix up Star Trek with Star Wars? Have I taught you nothing?"

His father heaved a deep sigh and turned his gaze to the ceiling. "It was a good movie. Maybe I'd still like it if you didn't bring it up so damn much," he murmured.

"What?" Eric asked.

"Nothing," Red replied.

"Anyway," Donna continued with a shake of her head, her red hair tumbling just past her shoulders, "We don't know what we're having. It could be a girl."

"Oh, I hope so," Jackie said. "Brooke's having a boy."

"You are?" Donna asked.

"Well, I'm fairly certain it's a boy, anyway. And I was right about Betsy," Brooke said, greeting the redhead with an embrace of her own.

"Where's Ade?" Hyde asked, looking around the room for a mysterious tenth person. It was weird to be standing here in the old living room with him close by. The last time they were in this particular area together was the night of New Year's in 1980, when Jackie had just started dating Fez.

Her gaze traveled over the carpeted stairs, settling on the third step. She imagined talking and laughing with a beer in hand in this very place, during a year that felt so long ago. If a staircase could speak, this one would have several interesting stories to tell.

"Oh, the poor girl was just so tuckered out! She went up to Laurie's old room shortly after dinner and probably fell asleep. I checked on her about an hour ago and she seemed like she was planning to call it a night," Kitty said.

"She's asleep already? Damn. It's not even eight o'clock," Hyde remarked.

"Well, she was awoken at six in the morning yesterday," the woman gently reminded him.

"I didn't have a choice! We had to get going to beat the storm," he defended.

Kitty paused to formulate her next sentence, hesitating just long enough for Jackie to jump in.

"Who are you talking about?" she asked.

"My cousin, Ade," Hyde answered.

"Oh, Adaliah? I love her!" Jackie said, pleased to learn that the older girl was resting upstairs.

"Wait. How do you know my cousin?" he asked, giving her a suspicious glance.

"Oh, it's nothing," Jackie brushed off. "She's been over a few times when I've talked to Angie."

"You talk to Angie?" Hyde asked, his suspicion increasing.

"Yeah. So? We're friends," she replied with a nonchalant shrug.

"You? And Ang? Friends? How the hell did that happen?" he inquired, mystified.

"Ask her," Jackie told him, before turning to Mrs. Forman. "Here are those cookies I told you about," she said as she produced a clear plastic bag full of triple chocolate brownie cookies, before noticing Hyde's concerned look.

"Brooke made them," she reassured.

He breathed a noticeable sigh of relief and she was miffed at his response.

"Oh, don't give me that look. Brooke's cookies are almost as good as Mrs. Forman's," he said.

This time, it was Kitty who gave him a look.

"I said _almost_!" Hyde informed the matriarch.

"Yes, well, Brooke certainly does know how to bake," Kitty conceded.

"My wife is good at everything," Kelso chimed in as he overheard their conversation.

Eric walked over to his friend.

"My wife's good at everything, too," he said.

"Eric, two words: Chicken Pinciotti," Kelso replied.

Eric's changing features displayed a conflicting array of emotions that seemed to culminate in a war flashback. As Eric himself had never been to war, Jackie found his reaction absurd. And they called _her_ overdramatic.

"Okay, nearly everything," he amended.

"Hey!" Donna said.

"You're getting better!" Eric added, before whispering to Kelso that they ate copious amounts of take-out, only for the man to ask the definition of copious.

What followed was truly extraordinary: instead of waiting for Eric to respond, his friend held up a hand, took strides over to the Forman's bookshelves, grabbed a dictionary and presumably turned towards the words beginning with a "C."

The boy Jackie grew up with hardly knew what a dictionary was and certainly never used one, with the exception of his brief foray into the Land of the Dorks when he believed himself to be the nerd of the group following the results of the SAT's. There was also the time when he learned the definition of an adulteress; at least, that was what Donna said.

The previous Christmas, Kelso was gifted a dictionary by his wife. Brooke was weary of his repetitious requests for definitions and Jackie had jokingly suggested she buy him a dictionary. Rather than realize the comment was only meant to humor her, Brooke did just that and it appeared that Kelso was learning surprisingly quickly.

"Oh! 'Yielding something abundantly!'" he verbalized. "Wait…" he continued, flipping through the pages until he landed somewhere in the back, undoubtedly in the Y's, "Yeah! Okay! Brooke doesn't let us eat copious amounts of that," he finished, shutting the book with a flourish before he placed it back on the bookcase.

"Copious amounts of what?" asked Donna.

"Takeout! Eric said you eat copious amounts of takeout!" Kelso explained.

"Kelso!" Eric said.

"Eric!" his wife said.

"Fez!"

The others turned to look at the man still sitting on the piano bench.

"What?" he said, "I always get left out of these things."

"Dumbass," Red said.

"Red, what did I say about calling the kids dumbasses this weekend?" Kitty scolded.

"Now, Kitty, we both know asking me to pretend a dumbass isn't a dumbass is just not realistic. They need to know."

"Because you haven't told them that enough," Kitty said, voice thick with sarcasm.

"Exactly," Red nodded. "See? You get it."

He pointed to Kelso. "Like this dumbass over here, who was just arrested for pantsing and is now splashed all over national news because he still doesn't know how to fight like a man."

Kelso smiled proudly at his moment of fame.

He gestured to Eric. "Or this dumbass, who has to make everything into a _Star Wars_ reference."

Jackie watched as Eric opened his mouth, either to protest or murmur some Jedi mind trick, before Red abruptly cut him off.

"This dumbass who inserts his own name into a conversation just so he can get attention," he said, staring at Fez.

"Or this one, the dumbass that clearly had a mission to get himself killed," to Hyde.

"C'mon, Red, that's old news," he responded.

Red continued as if Hyde hadn't spoken. "Female dumbass who married Jedi dumbass," he said to Donna.

"Female dumbass #2 who...moved to California," he told Jackie.

"Face it, Kitty. These kids are dumbasses," he concluded.

"Hey! Why was Brooke forgotten?" Eric asked.

"Because. She's smart...and I don't mean a smart-ass," Red replied.

"All you got for Jackie is that she moved to California? Really? What about that she can't cook, is shallow, craves jewelry the way people want food, is short and, oh yeah, the Devil?" Eric asked.

"Short people are dumbasses?" Jackie asked.

"Not all short people. Just you," he replied.

"That's quite enough of this dumbass talk," Kitty said. "Red, just give me one weekend without telling people all about their flaws. That's all I ask."

"But, Kitty…"

"Red."

He sighed. "Fine...for you. Just you."

There was a chorus of aww's and comments rating the sweetness of his statement before Red told them to shut up.

"Dad's right, though," Eric said, to everyone's shock. "What the hell were you thinking, pantsing Rick Springfield?"

Kelso was indignant. "He was trying to get in Brooke's pants!"

"C'mon, man, we all know she would never stray," Hyde said.

"The goddess Brooke is as faithful as she is gorgeous," Fez added.

"I know that," Kelso said, "Man, you won't understand until your pregnant chick gets hit on by a rockstar."

He paused.

"Oh wait, your chick isn't my wife, so that's not gonna happen," he added.

"Hey, I'm beautiful!" Donna said, with Eric's enthusiastic nod of agreement.

"Of course you're beautiful, Big Red," Kelso said, "but there's different types of beauty. You're hot, but Brooke is like model gorgeous."

"Kitty was model gorgeous," Red said.

If looks had the ability to maim, the one Kitty aimed at her husband in that precise moment would have immobilized him.

"Is! Is model gorgeous. Sweetheart, you're beautiful," Red hurriedly corrected.

Kitty crossed her arms. "Oh no, mister, you're not getting out of this one."

Red hunched his shoulders in defeat. "Alright, let's go," he said, walking with Kitty to the other room where he would inevitably receive a scolding for his use of the past tense.

Jackie decided if Adam were here, he would also point out her beauty. As he was not, and since she happened to agree with Michael, she merely voiced that he was correct and Brooke was indeed hot.

"Honestly, can't we find something better to discuss than rating women by their appearance?" Brooke asked with a sigh. "I'm hot, Donna's hot and Jackie's hot. Oh, and Betsy is the most beautiful little girl in the world," she added.

"Well, I think we can all agree with that," Eric said, while the others nodded.

"Aren't you forgetting someone? I mean, I'm definitely the hottest person in this room," said a familiar voice as the door to the kitchen opened with a bang.

Eric turned, his face ashen. "Laurie?"

Laurie Forman grinned, dropped her suitcases and pushed her sunglasses further to the top of her head before thrusting her arms out.

"Surprise, little brother! I'm home!"


	8. Chapter 8

There was something different about her, though none of them could pinpoint exactly what it was. In the entirety of Jackie's acquaintance with the Formans, Eric's older sister carried herself with an air that told everyone she didn't care what people thought. She treated life like an adventure, jumping from one hair-brained scheme to the next, being with whatever man she wanted at the time, regardless of the rumors.

In fact, she was Jackie's idol, until she learned that a conquest of Laurie's was one such Michael Kelso.

"Why is it that every time I see you, you're not six months pregnant?" Eric asked his sister, seemingly staring at her like he expected a protruding belly to magically pop out from under her top at any given moment.

"Can't say the same for the neighbor girl over there," she replied, throwing a cursory nod in Donna's direction.

"Who knocked you up?" Laurie asked.

"Your brother," Donna responded.

"Her husband," Hyde added.

"Despite numerous discussions describing to her in detail the amount of stupidity one would have to have to marry Eric Forman," Jackie said.

"Alright, little bro finally manned up and put a ring on the Pinciotti girl!" the blonde said. "Honestly didn't think Eric had it in him, especially after he left her at the altar."

Donna scowled at her husband as his features collapsed into panic.

"Laurie! We pretend that never happened! I was a stupid kid and the important thing is that my incredible wife let herself forgive me, as the loving and beautiful person she is - and, may I add, extremely talented."

"Nice try," Donna said, still visibly bothered.

"Dammit," Eric said.

Kelso sauntered over to the woman, arching his back and sticking his thumbs in his belt loops.

"Laurie," he said.

"Kelso," she replied.

"Don't know if you heard, but I'm kinda married now. To Brooke. Over there," he pointed.

Expecting Brooke to react as anyone did when their husband spoke to the woman infamously known for snatching other women's men, Jackie was surprised to see the brunette instead wave to Laurie with a genuine smile and not a hint of jealousy.

It wasn't as if her best friend was unaware of the blonde's past with her husband. Their lengthy phone call the night Kelso decided he would enumerate the women he got into bed informed Jackie that the brunette knew everything. However, Brooke seemed fine and didn't appear to consider the idea of charging at the older girl like a coyote in a chicken coop, as Jackie would do in a similar situation.

No, that analogy wasn't right. She carried herself with much more finesse than a coyote. Like a mother in a department store before prom, that was much more accurate.

Yes, if her husband's ex-girlfriend stood in the same room, she would charge at her like a mother in a department store before prom.

She'd been to prom only once, in sophomore year when Hyde uncharacteristically presented her with a corsage and shared their first dance until Kelso decided he wanted her back. She'd intended to attend again as a senior, but nixed the idea when Hyde didn't even attend her graduation party. At the time, she was upset over missing prom, though he never noticed; now, she was glad she didn't partake. Shortly after the missed dance, Chicago happened and then everything fell apart.

"And we're having another baby," Kelso added, interrupting Jackie's thoughts.

"Yeah, I can see that," Laurie said, her gaze briefly flickering on Brooke.

"The chronic cheating player discovered monogamy," she murmured, low enough that only Jackie heard. "Well, good for you!" she added, a few decibels higher, before pushing past him to walk to the other side of the room.

"Fezzie!" she said.

"Laurie!" he exclaimed, standing to greet her with a kiss on the cheek, followed shortly by a warm embrace.

"Hold on. What?" Eric asked, his face contorted in confusion.

"Yeah! You two hate each other!" Donna said.

"Are you seeing her?" Jackie asked, irritated that he would neglect to mention something that crucial during their last phone call.

The two in question exchanged a glance and then subsided into peals of laughter.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous!" Laurie said.

"Of course I would never turn this woman down, if she offered," Fez said, "but no, no. We're friends."

"Friends? You two - friends?" Hyde questioned, pulling off his shades to wipe the tears now billowing down his face from his own laughter.

"I should tell them," Fez said to Laurie.

"Oh, Fezzie. We've talked about this. You don't have to reveal anything," she replied.

"Tell us what?" Jackie asked.

"Reveal what?" Eric echoed.

"Hey buddy, you know you can tell us anything. Well...not anything. I mean, we don't need to know the next time Pepe gets inked," Kelso said.

Their friend fiddled with the buttons on the sleeve of his leather jacket, ostensibly contemplating whether he was ready to tell the thing he seemed so anxious to share. Taking a deep breath, he began.

"Laurie is my friend. I ran into her last summer when she was visiting one of her friends in The City," he said.

"Laurie has friends?" Eric asked.

He was quickly shut down by everyone demanding his silence.

"Anyway," Fez continued, "she was in town for a few days so I offered to show her the city - and, yes, we did fall into bed a couple times."

"Fez!" Laurie said.

"We made beautiful, sweet love, Laurie, and I don't regret it," he told her.

"It was alright, I guess," she responded offhandedly.

"Oh, it was the best damn sex you've ever had and we both know it," he countered. "But then she set me up with Hector," he continued.

There was a collective gasp that shrouded the room in a cloak of bewilderment.

"Did you just say...Hector?" Eric asked.

"Fez! You're dating a guy?" Kelso asked, his eyes wide and traumatized, as if recalling the day he ran to Jackie for comfort after learning he starred in his friend's sex dream.

"Oh no, no. Hector is so last December. He was far too focused on his modeling career to be in a relationship. Aurelia, now, she is a firecracker."

"So you're with Aurelia?" Brooke asked, not at all fazed by the idea of Fez in a relationship with another man.

"No. She moved back to France in February. But oh, did she walk as gracefully as a baboon," Fez said.

"I think you mean gazelle," Donna told him.

"No. Baboon. In my culture, we revere baboons. It is a compliment. But that was in February, and then I met Oscar."

"Okay, so you and Oscar are together now?" Brooke asked.

"We were, for a few wonderful weeks in March. But he had a jealousy problem. Carrie came next, for about a week and a half. And then of course, there was Carlotta. She was something else - fantastic in the bedroom and a killer fashion sense."

"Fez! Are you dating a guy or not?" Kelso asked, confusion blanketing his features.

"Ay, no. I am single again. But, I am open. I have realized that I enjoy being with both," Fez finished.

"Well, that's not exactly a surprise," Hyde said with a shrug.

"Yeah, I already knew," Jackie said. "I mean, you did tell me, but I figured it out long before then. You weren't particularly subtle."

Eric seemed to consider the idea, lips pursed in thought as if he were combing through his every interaction with Fez over the years and attempting to determine if the news was a shock.

"Remember that time Mitch came over and he blackmailed you with an article about you kissing Kelso? And you said you did it because you caught a fish? People don't kiss people just because they score on the fishing line. I did always wonder," he said.

Kelso, however, wore the look of a child who just discovered their parents in bed together.

"Easy for you to say! He didn't have a sex dream about you! Oh my god, all those times we made fun of Hyde by air kissing each other. And when you kissed me! Fez! Do you like me?! Because I don't like you, not like that. I like girls. Well, I like my wife. A lot. But if I liked anyone else, it would be a girl. Just girls. I'm not gay," he said, crossing his arms.

"Fez isn't gay, Kelso. He's bi," Laurie said.

"Then I'm not bi," he replied.

"Of course I like you. You're a very attractive man. Anyone would like you. But no, Kelso, I do not want to do it with you, if that's what you mean," Fez said.

"Well, good. Then I'm happy for you, man," his friend responded.

"Michael," his wife scolded, "even if Fez did have those kinds of feelings, you shouldn't treat him any differently."

"You just don't understand, Brooke. You've never had a woman kiss you who turned out to be a lesbian."

"Well -" she hesitated.

"What?" her husband asked, gaping at her. "Brooke! Do you have a history of girl-on-girl action that I don't know about?"

She shrugged.

"Oh, you better tell me later!" he said, getting a glimmer in his eye that clearly indicated another round of mental Bubble Kiss Time.

"Let me give Buddy a call and see if he can set you up with someone," Eric told Fez.

"Eric! Don't assume Buddy can find a date for Fez just because he's gay," Donna said.

"God, no, of course not. Buddy can find a date for Fez because he's Buddy Morgan and he knows everyone," Eric emphasized. "But it's good to know my own wife thinks so little of me!" he added.

"You still keep in contact with Buddy Morgan?" Hyde asked, resting his elbows on the top of Red's armchair, his shades returned to their usual spot as quickly as they were removed.

"Buddy was always so cute," Jackie sighed. "If I hadn't been with Michael...well, and if Buddy liked girls…"

She thought she detected the faintest flicker of emotion on Steven's face - jealousy, perhaps? - following her statement, but decided the idea was ludicrous. He'd made it more than clear on the road that his 12-step program broke her spell a long time ago.

"Buddy! Fez, you can get with Buddy. Buddy. Not me," Kelso said.

"Uh, Kelso, that'll be kinda hard, since he's engaged to someone else," Eric said.

"Buddy's engaged?" Jackie asked, attempting to ignore the feelings of hurt creating blockades around her heart.

Evidently, everyone made it down the aisle faster than her.

If Adam were still in the country, they would likely be engaged by now. But, as it was, her ring finger still sorely lacked the piece of jewelry it was intended for and it didn't appear that she would receive it anytime soon.

It was bad enough being the only female in their group without a husband. Now she found out that even Buddy Morgan would have one of his own while she remained alone for the foreseeable future.

"Yeah," Eric nodded. "He met some guy his freshman year at Notre Dame. They're gonna have a civil ceremony in Vegas next month."

Las Vegas. Oh, how she despised the very name of that place, with its showgirls, its booze and its drunken marriages oozing out of the slot machines. With the exception of Buddy Morgan's impending marriage, nothing good came out of that city.

"Okay, so forget about being with Buddy. But you can't be with me," Kelso said.

"Michael! Fez has already established that he is not interested in you. Calm down," Jackie said.

"Jackie! How can you be okay with this? Your ex-boyfriend is gay!" he told her.

"Bi," Donna corrected.

"Yeah, bi. I meant bi," Kelso said.

"Michael. You know my neighbor? Elijah?" Jackie asked.

"Oh yeah, the one with the hot girlfriend who tried on my firecracker suit and then let me play with his golden retriever," Kelso said with a smile.

"Yeah. Him. Well, he's bi."

"But he slapped my ass!" Kelso said.

"And you didn't think anything of it?"

"I thought he was just happy to try on the suit!"

"No," Jackie said, "he likes you. A lot."

"Well, he is man-pretty," Kelso said, "not as much as me, of course, but no one is. Hey, I don't have any problem with Fez being gay or bi or whatever. Just...don't kiss me again, man."

"But, Kelso, your lips are so juicy," Fez said.

"Man, c'mon!" Kelso said.

"I am kidding," his friend said, cracking a smile. "Well, no, your lips are very kissable, but I respect your marriage and will not come between you and your own goddess."

"Michael's asked about threesomes so often, this should be a dream come true for him," Brooke said, wrapping her arms around her husband's shoulders.

"Not this kind of threesome!" he said, tilting his head to give her a look that Jackie knew was the same reaction as when he awoke from a terrible nightmare.

"Man, I'm just relieved you finally admitted it. I knew it. Eric knew it. Donna knew. We probably all knew - except Kelso, apparently," Hyde said.

"The only shocking thing is that you're friends with my sister, the ex-wife who went on your honeymoon with another man and then proceeded to make your life miserable," Eric said.

His friend gazed at Laurie affectionately, one arm resting tenderly around her waist as he squeezed her hand. "If it were not for this beautiful woman, I would never have the courage to accept who I am. I will always hold her in the highest regard."

The blonde smiled back before laying her head on his shoulder.

"Fez, I hope you know that you're our friend and we love you, man. We're glad you told us," Eric said.

Out of her peripheral vision, Jackie noticed Steven shift uncomfortably, as he normally did when anyone mentioned the L-word in his presence; not because he grew up poor, as was often her reasoning, but because he was abandoned by parents who never once bothered with affection. It was one of the most encumbering issues in their relationship - his refusal to share anything of real substance. She knew it was due to the fact that he was immediately shut down whenever he did show emotion, but his declaration of love after sleeping with someone else was not one of his finer moments. It was a poor reach at her forgiveness, a move Michael himself pulled many times.

It hurt when Steven made zero attempt to salvage their relationship after the misunderstanding in Chicago, an excruciating ache she'd never before known. By the time she left for Madison, she didn't recognize her Steven. He was AWOL, replaced by a pod person with the same porn star moustache he told her he once mocked Michael about when Cadet Mike made his one and only appearance.

Sitting beside him on their way to the Forman's earlier that evening, there were hints of her old Steven surfacing - miniscule hints that were barely noticeable, but which existed nonetheless. She knew, however, that things would never be the same between them. There were far too many tears shed over Steven Hyde for her to ever trust him again, hindering any attempt at a friendship.

Jackie heard Betsy before she saw her and quickly thrust out her arms to catch the overly energetic girl, thereby preventing her collision into the sofa. Wide brown eyes stared up at her, the color of a wet, sandy Santa Monica beach that squelched under her bare feet, until they searched out the others to rest on one gaze in particular.

"Daddy!" Betsy said, freeing herself from Jackie's arms with the agility of a contortionist and sprinting over to grab a fistful of Kelso's jeans, "save me from Bigfoot!"

"Betsy, that's not funny. We've talked about this. You know Bigfoot is real. He lives in Washington," Kelso told her as he swooped her up.

"Unca Ewic see Bigfoot?" Betsy asked, laughing in response to her father swinging her onto his shoulders. Her little hands tucked carefully under his chin, leaning forward until her head was level with his ear.

"Uncle Eric would run scared the second he spotted Bigfoot," Kelso said, tilting his head to kiss her own ear.

"Hey!" Eric said. "Don't listen to your daddy, Betsy. He lies. I wouldn't run from Bigfoot. I'd stay and watch Aunt Donna fend him off."

"My husband, the conquering hero," Donna said, dramatically laying her hand on her forehead as if she were about to swoon.

"Donna, I admit it. I am your damsel and you are my Wonder Woman," Eric said.

"Whipped!" Kelso roared.

"I want whipped cweam!" Betsy said.

"No, honey, not that kind of whipped," Brooke explained, taking a seat on the sofa shortly before Donna did the same.

"The only whipped dat mattews," her daughter said, "'specially on stwawbewwies. Wight, Daddy?"

"Exactly, Bets. Except for your love of all things healthy that you clearly got from your mom, you're all me," Kelso responded with a proud grin.

"And her avid readership," Jackie overheard Brooke whisper to Donna, the both of which had their feet propped on the table as their heads rested on each other's shoulders.

"Methinks the glorious redhead and the fair brunette lady of which the lady refers to as a friend art getting the utmost of fatigued," Eric said.

He was answered by Hyde's stare and groan.

"Man, you're such a nerd."

Kelso blinked.

"Woah, Eric, when did you learn how to talk like an alien?"

"He's not speaking in alien tongue, man. It's Shakespeare. Y'know, the guy in the tights who wrote that Romeo & Juliet shit Mrs. Young made us read in ninth grade," Hyde said.

Kelso's dark brown eyes leapt with mirth, as if recalling a delightful moment that was previously long forgotten.

"Mrs. Young. Now, she was a babe. I did it with her."

Hyde chortled. "You did not. She threatened to slap you with a lawsuit if you didn't stop flirting."

"Okay, fine, I didn't do it with her," Kelso responded, shoulders slouching like a dog caught in the midst of destroying his owner's sofa, "but I did fantasize about her. A lot," at this, he brightened considerably, "and trust me, in my fantasies, we did it."

"Did what, Daddy?" Betsy asked.

"Uh...had a tea party, Betsy. Many, many tea parties," he said.

"I love tea pawties! Why I not invited?" she asked with a pout that made Jackie proud.

"You weren't born yet, sweetheart," Kelso said quickly. His expression indicated that he was currently mentally kicking himself for bringing the subject into discussion around his daughter.

"Your dad really loved her saucers, Betsy," Hyde said.

"She had some great saucers," Eric caught on.

"Her saucers were rather large," Fez added helpfully.

"You didn't know Mrs. Young. She moved to Dallas to pursue her dream of being a Cowboys cheerleader before you showed up as the only foreign exchange student in school. She was Jackie's role model," Eric said.

Jackie often spotted Erin Young wandering the halls of the junior high after hours, the epitome of grace and poise. As a teen, she trained with the Pennsylvania Ballet in Philadelphia, before pursuing an English and secondary education degree at Penn and then deciding for some reason to transfer to Point Place. It was there that she met her husband, the eighth grade history teacher who encouraged her ultimate vision - professional cheerleading, especially in Dallas, where her family lived temporarily when her father was stationed an hour away in Fort Worth.

The young woman embodied everything Jackie wanted to be: smart, though the very thought would never cross her lips, especially to Donna; sophisticated, sassy and stylish; successful in her twenties; married to a man who made every eighth grade girl sigh, including herself, and even some of the guys; gymnastics moves that would make ninjas jealous and, most importantly, the gumption to audition for the Cowboys and the talent to be offered the role.

Erin Young was the reason Jackie wanted to become a Cowboy cheerleader herself. It was a dream that was discarded in the later years of high school, when she set her goal to become a weather girl instead.

At least, until senior year, when she got a taste of being an anchor and decided she'd rather do that - until she worked in Hollywood and realized she'd prefer to gain power behind-the-scenes.

She was brought back to the present when Fez spoke.

"Oh yes, that's right. I meant Madame O'Young, the French teacher. Her saucers were magnificent in length. She would have tea with Mr. Anderson every afternoon and I always wondered how she was able to get her teacups to stay on those saucers," he said.

Donna looked at him suspiciously.

"Fez, you didn't take French," she said.

"No," he admitted, "I went for the easy A in Spanish; well, it was meant to be easy, but Señorita Alvarez could never understand me. I think she was from Idaho. But Madame's classroom was across the courtyard from chemistry and I was situated in the corner, allowing me the perfect view of her glorious saucers."

"I have saucews, too! Mine are lavendew!" Betsy said, "I play tea pawty wit Mrs. Yawk and Daddy!"

"No, no you don't, Betsy. Don't ever talk about your saucers again," Kelso said, sending a scathing look to each of the three men, two of whom were sniggering behind enclosed hands.

Fez, meanwhile, just seemed confused.

"But she really did have beautiful saucers!" he defended, "pink and shiny."

"Quit it! You guys are gonna get me in trouble!" Kelso said, turning an anguished look on his wife.

"You're always in trouble," Jackie said.

"That's beside the point," he replied, "it wasn't my fault this time."

Evidently tired of the discussion, Betsy looked at Laurie.

"Who are you?" she asked, intently scrutinizing the halter and cropped jeans the blonde wore as if she were searching for a noticeable flaw in the design.

"I'm Laurie," she replied, "and who are you?"

"Betsy Victawia Wawkwell-Kelso," the little girl answered, her nose scrunched in thought as she worked to remember the details of her name. "Why are you hewe?"

"This is my parents' house," Laurie said.

"She's Uncle Eric's sister," Jackie added.

The mystified expression on her goddaughter's face rapidly transformed into sheer jubilation.

"Then you my aunt!" Betsy said.

"Oh, no sweetie, I'm not your aunt," Laurie told her gently, a tone which startled everyone, especially the woman's younger brother. Perhaps a tad too dramatically, Eric took a step back as if he had just walked over a grenade and was ordered to fear for his life.

"But," Betsy said as her lower lip began to tremble, "don't you like me?"

"I don't know you," Laurie noted, a flicker of guilt in her misty gray eyes the only indication that she was not as unfazed as her blasé demeanor projected.

"I just told you! I Betsy!"

"She yours?" Laurie asked Jackie, tilting her head in the child's direction.

"Yes she is," Jackie smiled.

"You procreated with Kelso?" Laurie shuddered.

"What? No! Don't be ridiculous!" she said, not even bothering to mask the revulsion on her face.

"This sweet angel of mine is my daughter with Brooke," Kelso explained.

"Hyde and Jackie are her godparents," added his wife.

"Wow, you actually did it," Laurie told Jackie with a hint of respect, "you got Steven J. Hyde to marry you."

Startled, the two in question exchanged a quick glance, as if Steven were trying to secretly communicate with her. It lasted only a second - a quarter of a second, to be precise - before they exploded into boisterous laughter.

"Me? Marry Jackie? Not even in a parallel universe," Hyde gasped out between guffaws.

"We split up three years ago," Jackie said, attempting to catch her breath.

"The godparents to your kid aren't even together?" Laurie asked Kelso. "Man, that won't be an easy custody case if you guys die," she added.

"They were still together when we made them godparents and it wasn't like we were going to take it away from them just because they didn't work out," Brooke said.

"Yeah," Kelso said, "stop ragging on our selection. You can choose whatever godparents you want with your own kids."

"I'm not gonna have kids," the blonde replied.

There was a high-pitched shriek that was instantly recognizable as Kitty's and it was only at that moment that the gang of twentysomethings realized she'd returned to the room.

"Not having kids?" she bellowed, always a strange sight to hear from a woman of her tiny stature, as if she were lip synching another's words, "And when were you planning to tell your mother this?"

Laurie whipped around. "Oh, hi Mommy!"

"Don't think you can whip out a 'hi, Mommy,' and make this okay," Kitty said, "do you want to kill me the night before your father's and my anniversary?"

"It's not our anniversary!" they heard Red shout from the other room.

"Mommy, calm down. Let's go somewhere else to discuss this," Laurie said.

"Actually, I'm entertained right here," Eric said, folding his arms together with a beaming grin..

"Shut up, dumbass!" came Red's voice, before Donna shook her head at her husband.

"No, we're going to talk about this right here. Is it some '80s feminist thing? Because Laurie, you can still be empowered and independent and all that and give your mother grandkids," Kitty brushed off.

"Please, let's go to the kitchen," Laurie begged. It was such an uncharacteristic notion for her that Jackie almost became concerned.

Almost. This was still the girl who pretended to be her friend while doing her boyfriend, after all.

"Midge is all about her self-love and she's still a mother and a soon-to-be grandmother. Donna is on the planning committee for women's marches and she's pregnant!" Kitty continued.

"In all fairness, it wasn't exactly planned," the redhead murmured, locking eyes with her husband.

"Mommy -"

"And furthermore, I don't appreciate the implication that I can't be strong and fulfilled because I'm a mother. I do have a career and a family, you know -"

"I'm not having kids because I can't!" Laurie shouted, effectively disrupting her mother's tirade.

The older woman's jaw dropped as she looked at her daughter.

"What did you just say?" she whispered.

"I can't have kids, Mommy," Laurie repeated in a small voice, tears forming in her eyes.

The revelation ended Jackie's earlier attempt to stifle her sympathy at Laurie's plight. She couldn't imagine being in the woman's situation and didn't want to. Finding out she couldn't bear children would shatter years of childhood fantasies that she clung to even now.

"Oh, honey," Kitty said, running to hug the woman, "are you sure?"

"Yes," she sniffled. "We thought I was pregnant so I went to the doctor and he told me. I'm infertile."

"Who's we?" Kitty asked.

"Oh, he's nobody," Laurie said, "just one of my idiot ex-boyfriends."

"Does the doctor know why?" she asked.

"I can give you three guesses, Mom. One starts with an S, then a T and finally, we have the big ole D! What does that spell? STD!" Eric said.

"Forman. Leave the cheerleading to Jackie. You're not the best at it. Also, it just increases your dork status," Hyde said.

Laurie glowered at her brother. "For your information, I've never had an STD in my life."

"But didn't Kelso have one in high school?" he asked.

"Then he musta gotten it from someone else," Laurie shrugged.

"Eric, don't talk to your sister like that," Red said as he re-entered the living room.

"God, Eric, it's like your sister shows up and suddenly you're 16 all over again," his wife said.

Eric frowned. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Kitty looked at him, her face exuding disappointment. "Honestly, Eric, we raised you better than that."

"Okay, okay! I said I'm sorry."

She turned back to her daughter. "So if it's not an STD, what did he say?"

"I have something called endometriosis," Laurie said, "which explains why all those stomach pains started in college."

"Oh yes, endometriosis," Kitty nodded, "Cindy's daughter has that. She was able to conceive, but it was a special case. It is possible you can do the same in the future, but right now, let Mommy take care of you and tell her all about life in Canada."

"Canada?" asked the blonde wrapped around her mother as she used a fingertip to wipe her tears.

"Isn't that where you said you were last time we spoke?" Kitty inquired, face turning up in deep thought as she seemed to mentally rewind their conversation.

"That was two years ago, Mommy, when I was with Brian. I'm in Denver now."

"Oh, well, then tell me about Denver," she amended while walking out the swinging kitchen door with her arm wrapped around Laurie's waist.

"Ah, yeah, since they're gone, I'm just gonna go, ah, back in there," Red said, pointing to the other room.

"I wanna go with Gampa Wed!" Betsy said, tugging at her father's shirt collar.

"Go ahead. Have fun," Kelso said, setting her carefully on the carpet.

"Unca Ewic, tell Aunt Lawie I hope she feels bettew!" she called before running off after Red.

"Wow. My sister's infertile," Eric said, shaking his head. "And I was so sure she must have eight kids by eight different daddies."

"Poor Laurie," Jackie said.

Seven heads turned in shock.

"What? I can feel bad for her and still dislike her," she said, shrugging her shoulders.

"Guys, we still need to figure out where we're staying," Kelso said.

Hyde nodded. "Yeah, me and the cuz kinda need a new place to sleep, since Laurie will probably want to stay in her bedroom."

Brooke struggled to stand, looking gratefully at Fez when he helped her off the sofa.

"Michael, Betsy and I can stay at his parents' house," she said.

"But Casey and Jamie are there! They'll team up to trap me in the bathroom and give me a Wet Willy," her husband cried.

"Michael. You're 24 years old. It's high time you stand up to your older brother and you shouldn't even be afraid of your youngest brother," his wife said.

"You saw Jamie's record! He was in third grade when he beat up the gym teacher. And that guy was like 250 pounds," he countered.

Eric exchanged a glance with Donna.

"Ordinarily, I'd say we could stay in my room, but that bed isn't even big enough for the two of us anymore, let alone three," he said.

"Yeah, and my bed's the same," Donna said.

"You guys can have mine," Jackie said, "it's sitting in the storage unit off Main. I'm sure Michael would be more than happy to move it into Eric's room for you and it's a queen, which should be cozy enough for even Donna's bear feet."

"That's...strangely thoughtful of you, Jackie. Thank you," Eric managed to stammer out as he regarded her with something resembling admiration.

"Thank you so much," Donna said, squeezing her tightly.

"Watch it, Lumberjack, you're squishing me," came Jackie's muffled voice against her sweatshirt.

"I think you're all missing the important thing here. Jackie just volunteered me for something I have no desire to do," Kelso said.

"Yeah, she does that. I'll help," Hyde said.

"Me too," added Fez.

"Perfect!" Donna said. "So that covers Laurie, Eric and I and the Kelsos. Fez, where are you gonna stay?"

"Rhonda's parents said I could crash at their pad for the next few weeks while they're visiting her in Tennessee," he answered.

"Oh, Big Rhonda! How's she doing?" Donna asked.

"She's great! She's a top bull rider in the Nashville Rodeo," Fez said with pride.

"Ah, so that's what she ended up doing," Jackie said, "I always wondered."

"I didn't know you talk to her parents," Hyde said.

Fez laughed, shaking his head.

"Bill and Trish are lovely people. They told me once I was the son they never wanted, until Rhonda and I broke up. Now, they love me."

"Because you're foreign?" Hyde asked, a tinge of anger evident in his voice.

"No," Fez said, "because I made the mistake of telling them I was going to make passionate love with their daughter at the winter dance."

Jackie sighed disapprovingly.

"Oh, Fez. I should've helped you out more in high school. There's so much I could've taught you - for starters, never reveal your true intentions to your date's parents," she said.

"But Bill asked about my intentions with his daughter," Fez said.

"And that's when you lie your ass off," Kelso said, avoiding Brooke's responding glare.

"Ah, these are the bygones," Fez brushed off.

"You mean, let bygones be bygones," Jackie corrected.

"Yes, yes, that is what I said," he replied.

Donna lay her head on Brooke's shoulder, her hand resting on Eric's back.

"Okay, then Fez can stay at Rhonda's. So that just leaves Hyde, Lia and Jackie without a room," she said.

After a moment of contemplative thought, she brightened.

"I know! Lia can stay in my old room and you two can bunk together in Hyde's."

The idea of sharing a bed with her ex-boyfriend, especially a dirty cot masquerading as a bed in a dingy basement room, did not appeal to Jackie in the slightest.

"In his dreams," she scoffed.

"Chill, princess. No one said I wanted to stay with you, either," Hyde told her.

He'd never called her that before, not even that day in her dad's Lamborghini when he described her as abrasive. She'd spent her whole life dreaming of becoming royalty and yet, somehow, it sounded like mockery when the word dripped from his lips - those beautiful, kissable lips.

She inwardly scowled. Why did he always do this to her?

"I can bunk in my old room," he said, his stare seeming to penetrate through her.

"And Lia and I can stay in Donna's," she added.

If she weren't mistaken, the redhead seemed awfully upset at the idea.

"Fine. But someone else has to wake her up to give her the news," Hyde said, "she's still mad at me for yesterday."

"I'll do it," Donna said.

"Serves you right for trying to trick us," Jackie said.

"Yeah, it was bad enough sharing a car ride with her," Hyde added.

Brooke groaned.

"I swear, if you two keep fighting, I'm going to kick both your asses," she said, sharing an indecipherable look with her husband.

"I knew I like that girl!" they heard from the other room.

"I like you too, Red!" she called, twisting her long locks into a side ponytail.

"I want you to call a truce, for your goddaughter's sake. I will not have this trip ruined for her because two of the people she loves most in the world want to act like children," she said to the exes, hands now cupped around her hips.

"But, Brooke -" Jackie started.

"Truce!" the older girl shouted, making even Hyde jump.

"Fine. Truce," they grumbled, reluctantly joining hands to shake on it, "for Betsy's sake."

"And that," Brooke said, pronouncing her statement in such a way that the emphasis was on the second word, "is how you do that."

Kelso's lips curved upward into a proud smile as he bent slightly to give her a kiss.

"My wife, everybody," he said.

Eric groaned.

"Man, do you have to kiss her every time I see you?" he asked.

"Yes," Kelso said, as Brooke smiled, "yes I do."

"And that's why Baby Number Two is on the way already," Hyde said.

He was met with silence as the others turned their backs to the married couple, who were now in a full-on makeout session in the middle of the Forman living room.

"Man, c'mon!" Hyde said, as both he and Jackie turned their own backs in disgust.


	9. Chapter 9

_Thank you so much for the reviews and kudos; I didn't expect them nearly that quickly, especially as this is my first fic on this site._

_Enjoy! xx_

A feeling of contentment washed over him, an emotion so rare that he almost didn't believe it. His hands wandered over the soft threads of the scarlet beach towel as he observed the aquamarine waves enveloping the crystalline sand and leaving various colorful shells in their wake. He could see Brooke and Betsy building a sandcastle with Mark's help in the distance, drizzling water from the beach pail into their already formed moat. He noticed the Formans and Barnetts hanging around beside them outside of their own cabanas, WB and Red talking with each other while the game blared over the loudspeakers. Fez was easy to spot as well, currently protesting as Kelso hit him repeatedly with a beach ball, eliciting soft giggles from his daughter.

And here she was, her perfectly formed body lying against his bare chest as she adjusted the brim of her floppy hat that hung mere inches from his face.

Who she was was uncertain. He could make out the dark hair, but he couldn't get a full visual of her eyes. She spoke and the sound came out gargled, like the teacher on one of those Peanuts specials Kelso made them watch every year when they were kids.

The same special he made them watch only the previous Christmas.

He was unable to determine her countenance, or even her name, but an elation filled him nonetheless, the kind of which he previously believed he would never feel again. The thought coiled through him that perhaps this was an indication of how his life would be from now on.

He couldn't say that he minded.

" _Rock cookies_

_Tiny dancers_

_All your endless blither."_

Startled, he leapt up from the concrete basement floor, fleetingly questioning why he was no longer in his cot. It didn't take long to deduce the answer; he'd clearly fallen, along with a pile of comforters and pillows that now covered the cold cement. The only explanation for his new resting place was the raucous sound still filling the room, the infuriating lie that cut through his perfect holiday and brought him diving back to reality.

" _Took you to your prom_

_Then you returned to him_

_Didn't know my heart could shatter_

' _Til then."_

"My heart didn't shatter at prom! It was fine 'til she brought over that asshole musician to make me jealous and then Mom talked me into going on on that damn date and she said she felt nothin' when we both knew that was bullshit! Then went back to Kelso, which was even more bullshit after everything he did to her!" Hyde yelled, swatting at his alarm clock through bleary eyes to muzzle the deceptive machine and the defamatory lyrics coming out of its speakers.

As the knuckle of his right hand connected with the device and he heard the satisfying crash that indicated his tormentor was now on the floor beside him, he briefly wondered the probability of ending up on death row if he were to slaughter that fibbing snitch, Gilbert Hopps.

Deciding the negative consequences of premeditated murder far outweighed the positive, Hyde emitted a frustrated groan and climbed back into his cot.

Freshly laundered sheets enveloped him in an afghan of Mrs. Forman's love as he closed his eyes to return to the beach or, more specifically, to his previous state of euphoria.

That dream, along with many of his other wishes in life, was soon dashed when he heard the sound of feet pounding down the basement stairs.

It wasn't altogether unexpected in his current location and he would think nothing of it, if it weren't for the resounding squeak of a door being thrown open.

None too surprisingly, it was his.

"Hyde! What are you yelling about?"

"What?" Hyde asked, sitting up in his cot as he tried not to think of the hot, faceless babe he would never see again, unless during the unlikely chance that she starred in another one of his dreams, "what the hell are you talkin' about, Forman?"

Eric surveyed the room, as if expecting to find someone hiding behind the rusted dresser. The chest of drawers was a gift from Kitty's grandmother on her granddaughter's wedding day and Hyde knew it was a main focus in their bedroom until they brought it down to the basement when they took him in.

His belief that Eric was searching for something in particular was made all the more apparent when the man poked his head behind the dresser and resurfaced with nothing but a dusty $5 bill that appeared to be minted several decades ago.

It wasn't until Eric's find that Hyde realized he had never taken the time to go through every nook and cranny in his room and see what other treasures the basement held. He decided he would have to do so before he left to return to St. Louis.

There might be a whole coin factory in here that he didn't know about.

"We heard you yelling," Eric said.

"I wasn't yelling," Hyde responded, cursing the thin walls of his room and the evening he decided to encourage Gilbert Hopps. Had things gone differently that night, he wouldn't be forced to listen to _Anything for You_ every time he turned on the damn station.

As Tiny Grasshopper's record producer, he should have been ecstatic that the band's first single was producing excellent results on the top charts. However, it was difficult for him to feel elated when it meant his former relationship was also dominating people's radios.

He knew he'd have to try harder than that to persuade his friend, an indication that was evident in the skepticism currently splashed across Eric's visage.

"Right. Wanna try that again? Because the words 'asshole,' 'damn' and 'bullshit' were definitely heard all the way in the Sudan and nothing you tell me will sway that belief."

"Oh," Hyde hesitated, realizing with a trace of irritation that he would be unable to wipe the smirk from his friend's face, "I may have yelled, a little. My asshole clock radio with its damn loud volume woke me up, which is bullshit. Musta forgot to turn it off when I came back from Christmas."

His comment did nothing to convince his friend, who just smiled as if the two shared a secret.

"Y'know, I think that's the first time I've heard you talk about your time in Africa," Hyde said, attempting to change the subject as he picked up the bedding lying on the floor and began trying to make his cot more presentable.

Longing, nostalgia, sadness or all three seemed to dominate Eric's features as they were shortly accompanied by a wistful sigh.

"Yeah, I dunno. I'd love to talk about it more, but how can I explain what that time meant to me? Everything I saw and did? I mean, Hyde, you should've been there, man. There was this place, Tuti Island...the Deriba Caldera...oh, and the Nuba Mountains...they were so beautiful," he said, zoning out as if he were far away from the Formans' basement, undoubtedly brought back to Sudan in 1979, "I made friends there, man, people I care about and who I know cared about me. I met some of the nicest guys - British, Australian, Indian. And I'll never see them again," he added.

"But," he continued, the excitement in his eyes dying down to an attempt at insouciance, "it's not like I can talk about it, anyway, even if I could put it into words. Mom doesn't like to think about my time in Africa and it reminds Donna of the idiot who broke up with her through a letter. So it's best if I just keep quiet. The one time I even mentioned missing Sudan, she brought up that Randy guy she dated."

Hyde studied the man for a moment. The expression on Eric's face was foreign, he decided as he reached over to the nightstand to put on his shades. Something happened to the man during his time in Africa, an occurrence that none of them could begin to understand, though many would certainly try.

His first thought was a chick, but he quickly dismissed the idea. He knew Forman would've entrusted that kind of secret to him the moment he returned.

But something did happen, he affirmed as he dug through his duffle to find a pair of faded jeans and an old T-shirt, that much was clear when Eric was speaking about the experience in a way he never had before.

"Forman, you can tell me about the Sudan anytime you want. I mean, there's no guarantee that I'll listen, but you don't have to keep it to yourself."

"Really? Thank you. I appreciate that, man - more than you know," Eric said, a bright smile wiping away his despondency.

"Even though you woke me up," Hyde said, annoyed.

"Hey, I'm just letting you know breakfast will be ready soon. Mom made a huge spread and I knew you wouldn't want to sleep through it."

Hyde grinned, the idea of his mother's breakfast choices countervailing his desire to go back to sleep.

"Alright, I'll get changed and go upstairs."

"Great," Eric said, "I'll be waiting right outside."

As his friend left the room, Hyde scrutinized the band shirt he held. Staring at the dark fabric, he found himself wondering if he should choose something a little nicer and more fitted to show Jackie exactly what she was missing out on.

He laughed and shook his head. Only a few days hanging around Fez and he was already starting to think like him.

His choice of clothing was fine. He knew he'd reluctantly have to wear a more formal outfit for the party later that evening - the same suit he'd worn to Cassie's wedding, if Mrs. Forman had her way - but for now, the black T-shirt emblazoned with the red lettering of AC/DC was his final decision.

"Kelso. You look like shit," Hyde said as he went upstairs and noticed mussed hair and dark circles outlining the eyes of the man who normally kept a strict beauty regiment. "You do something stupid, like eat an egg?"

"No way. I don't mess with those anymore. I won't even go near them in Dominick's," Kelso replied with a shudder.

"Hyde's right. You're almost as puffy as the time you drank those raw eggs to impress Jackie," Eric said, gawking at his friend.

"Yeah, that was pretty impressive. I was like the Hulk," Kelso said, puffing out his chest with pride, "well, 'til my face swelled like the Goodyear blimp. Nah man, Brooke wasn't feeling well last night. It's hard to think of getting beauty sleep when you think you gotta take your wife and kid to the ER. I didn't close my eyes 'til at least 5."

"Your kid?" Hyde asked, feeling a sudden weight press down on his chest as if an elephant was currently using it as an armchair. "What happened to Betsy?" he demanded.

The screen door opened and with it, the reveal of Hyde's immense relief.

"Oh Betsy, thank god you're okay!" he said, scooping her up as he embraced her tightly.

His friends exchanged a look and then turned their gazes back to him. Both men regarded him with something akin to mirth, which only resulted in a desperate attempt to quickly regain his composure.

"Er - Betsy, yeah. Glad to see you," he said as he loosened his grip slightly but refused to let the girl go completely.

"Uh, Hyde, I meant the other kid," Kelso said, clearly amused.

"Of cowse I okay, Goddad. It's Mommy who's not okay!" Betsy told him as her little hands lifted off the glasses currently perched on the edge of his nose and placed them over her own eyes.

"Daddy, do I look like Goddad?" she asked, changing her expression to perfectly mirror the stoic one Hyde normally showed.

"Betsy, why do you want to look like Goddad?" her father asked.

"Because. I love him," she said plainly.

"Anyways," she continued, returning to presumably stare at Hyde through his own darkened lenses, "Mommy sick. I think my little bwotha is eating hew owgans!"

"Betsy, I'm sure your little brother or sister is not eating your Mommy's organs," he replied.

"Oh, but he is! He teawing hew apawt fwom the inside. I saw it on TV and now he's doing it too! Goddad, tell him to stop!" Betsy said, turning her head in the direction of the screen door just as a noticeably exhausted Brooke walked in.

"Mommy!" she said. "Come hewe! Awe you still bleeding?"

Without his shades to cover up his features, Hyde didn't attempt to hide his alarm.

"You were bleeding?" he asked, concerned.

Brooke shook her head as she walked over to put her arm reassuringly around her daughter.

"No, Michael dropped his hotdog on the sheets. The ketchup splattered onto my PJ pants, and Betsy walked in and thought there was blood. It was a rough night, but I'm fine. I'm sure it was just all the excitement yesterday," she said.

Kelso, on the other hand, didn't seem as convinced.

"Man, what were you doing eating a hotdog in bed?" Hyde asked, staring directly at his friend as he began to calculate exactly how much food Kelso must have eaten the day before.

Many people in the world had tanks for stomachs, but Hyde had yet to meet anyone with an appetite remotely similar to Michael Kelso's.

"I was hungry!" Kelso said.

"We've told you repeatedly to only eat food at the dinner table. You always stain something," Eric said disapprovingly.

From his expression, Hyde could almost guarantee that his friend was thinking about the amount of club soda it would take to remove the ketchup from Kelso's sheet.

He was, after all, Kitty Forman's son.

"I'm not gonna eat food at the table when Casey is up all night drinking with his Army buddies and playing Beer Pong in the living room!" Kelso replied. "I told you we shouldn't stay there," he added to his wife, "Betsy doesn't need to be around that kind of environment. This is why Mom and Dad go out of town every weekend."

"But, Kelso, you love Beer Pong," Eric pointed out.

"Not when my daughter is around!" he replied.

Betsy whispered into Hyde's ear, his eyes widening at her fervent request.

"Uh, no. No, I'm not doing that," he said.

"Pleeease, Goddad?" she begged.

"Betsy, your mom just said she's fine. There's no need for it," Hyde replied as he vigorously shook his head.

"But...pleeease?" she asked, lifting the shades onto her own head to give him a much-too familiar pout.

Just his luck. It was the same damn pout that made him unable to deny a request, even as far back as his junior year.

He sighed, set Betsy down and reluctantly got on his knees, directly in front of Brooke's bulging abdomen.

"Uh, hey...kid. Listen...your sister would like you to, uh...stop eating your mom's organs. Well, that's what she said, anyway. I doubt you're actually eating your mom's organs. But, hey, give her a break, alright? Brooke's a great lady. You'll see," he said, trying not to think of the many pairs of eyes that were currently trained on him.

He was almost able to tune it out and dwell solely on his goddaughter's request, until he heard laughter coming from outside the open screen door.

"Hyde, are you talking to Brooke's stomach?"

He whipped around.

Shit.

"Yes, I think he was. Interesting. Never thought I'd see Steven do that," Jackie said, giggling with an equally amused Ade.

Shit, shit, shit.

"I can't wait to tell Angie," his cousin said, entering the kitchen.

"You wouldn't!" Hyde said.

"Eh, I might. Depends," Ade replied with a shrug, "on what you can do for me. We'll talk business later. So, let's see...you're Brooke, you must be Kelso, so this is Betsy! and hi, Eric!"

"So this is the famous Adaliah! I'm glad to finally meet you," Brooke said, walking over to greet her as Hyde stood, "we always hear about Hyde's family. It's wonderful to put a face to the name. I'd particularly like to meet this Marcus who he says is his only male cousin."

"Yeah, it's a real shame that Marcus couldn't come up. He's working on a big case right now," Ade replied, "but I know he'd love to introduce himself to all of you. There's also Andrew, but he's still in diapers, so yeah, Hyde and Marcus are the only Barnett men that haven't yet reached middle age. Although, you never know with Hyde."

"Hey!" he protested.

"Oh yes, that's right, Hyde did mention that he's an attorney," Brooke said.

"And he just made partner!" Ade said with a triumphant grin, both she and Brooke taking seats at the table beside Jackie.

He felt a moment's relief that his cousin wasn't here. As much as he liked the guy, he didn't need more people knowing about what just happened at Betsy's insistence.

"And, as usual, I'm late to the party," Fez said, the only one of the gang to enter via the swinging door to the living room.

"Fez, did you use the front door?" Eric asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. It was understandable - few of them used that particular door to enter the house, least of all the former foreign exchange student.

"No," the man replied, "Laurie and I got smoothies after our morning jog and some child throwing a temper tantrum spilled his on my shoe. We went upstairs to look for Mr. Red's shoe polish."

"Wait, now you and my sister go out for smoothies and jogs? Are you sure you aren't dating?"

"We are just friends," Fez said, his voice laden with as much conviction as the previous evening.

"I just like to have a jogging partner," Laurie said, overhearing the conversation as she followed behind.

Perhaps they were telling the truth, but Hyde wasn't so quick to believe their statements after seeing their exchanged smiles.

"Oh, beautiful queen, you have the most perfect mane of tightly curled strands. Dare I say I have never seen a finer head of hair?" Fez said as he spotted Ade.

"You think so?" Ade smiled, touching her dark curls.

"Absolutely," Fez nodded, "I have seen many, many heads of hair in my career, and I have run my fingers through the perfect strands of Jackie's, but yours is something magnificent, as if you were royalty in a previous life."

"Wow, thank you," Ade said, a deep flush creeping into her cheeks, "I used to try to straighten it out with chemicals or a hot comb to fit society's idea of beauty, but I got tired of all that work."

"No, no," Fez said, "you must never let chemicals or a hot comb touch your hair again. Leave it natural. A hot comb will ruin the glory that the universe has created."

"Really?" Jackie asked, "I've spent so many hours setting my hair with hot curlers just so I can even come close to hair like yours!"

"Screw society's idea of beauty," Donna said as she walked in and took a spot by the women, "I don't think society actually knows what's beautiful. I mean, it wasn't even a century ago that women were forced to wear corsets to allow men to think we all had tiny waists and now the fashion experts tell us to wear these peasant blouses that hide everything."

"Wait," Kelso said, his finger moving rapidly over the room, "five chicks. I'm in a room with five chicks. Awesome!"

"Five chicks who are telling each other how beautiful they are," Eric added, "which is strangely even better than a girl fight."

"Jackie's not dissing anyone," Hyde whispered to him, "man, this is weird."

"Hey there, hi there, ho there!" came the muffled voice of Bob Pinciotti, currently hidden behind a mountain of teetering brown bags.

"I'll take those," Kitty said as she entered, "Red, you get the rest."

Bob grinned as the couple lightened his load.

"Thanks, Kitty," he said gratefully.

Red's gaze flickered from one person to the next before it settled on his son.

"Why are there thirteen people in my kitchen?" he demanded.

"I came up because Forman told me breakfast was ready," Hyde said.

"I said it was almost ready," Eric corrected.

"Eric was right," their mother said, "I dropped by the Piggly Wiggly to get a few more things, but it won't be much longer now."

"And I told her what she already had was fine. But then she threatened to invite the LOPS over for a quilting bee during the Packers game and next thing I knew, I was putting groceries in the cart at the Piggly Wiggly," Red said.

"It's been a long time since we've had this many people visit," Kitty said, "I couldn't live with myself if I didn't create a feast that would make the queen envious."

"You won't be able to get anything done with this crowd," her husband said, "everybody out, now!"

The Kelsos and Hyde filed outside, the latter trying unsuccessfully to get his shades back from his goddaughter, who chortled and held them tightly to her face. Fez and Eric came next, the former commenting on Eric's poor fashion choice of a lime green baseball shirt that Hyde knew was a birthday present from Donna. The terrible gift-giver followed closely behind, whispering with Ade and Jackie as if the two women had known his cousin for years.

Eric reached down into the freshly mown grass beside the garage, picking up an old basketball that was devoid of any former color and just barely retaining its shape.

"Who's up for a game?" Eric asked.

"Me!" Kelso said, "let's play girls against guys!"

"I'd love to," Donna said, "but I'm afraid Brooke and I will have to sit this one out - y'know, considering these basketballs we're already carrying around."

"Or more like a watermelon, in my case," Brooke said, staring at her stomach.

"You and me, we're having a game as soon as the baby's out. It's no fun playing without you," Kelso told his wife.

"So much for that," Eric said with only a touch of disappointment.

"Eh, don't quit so soon, Eric. Laurie! Get your fine ass out here!" Kelso yelled.

"What?" the woman asked, pulling her tightly-fitting sweater around her as she stepped outside.

"We're playing basketball. You in?" Kelso asked.

"Kelso, you're forgetting I was a star on the court in middle school. Sure you want to go against me?" she asked.

"Middle school was a long time ago," he said, "and you didn't even pick up the ball in high school. You in, or what?"

"Sure. Yeah. I'm in," Laurie said, rolling her sleeves up and fastening her long hair into a tight ponytail.

"Excellent!" he said. "Okay, Jackie, Laurie and Ade are a team. Hyde, me, Eric and Fez are another."

"That's not fair!" Jackie said, "it's three against four!"

"We've got this, ladies," Ade said, "and I'm sure Brooke and Donna over there will be cheering us on."

"You've got that right!" Brooke said, taking a seat in one of the lawn chairs Donna dragged in front of Red's Corvette.

"Brooke!" Kelso said, "you're supposed to cheer for me! Your husband!"

"Oh baby, I can cheer you on in bed," she told him, "I'm gonna have to root for the girls on this one."

"Man, no one needs to know about your sex life," Hyde groaned.

"Okay, that's fair," Kelso said.

"Shirts against skins!" Fez called.

"Sounds good to me," Jackie said, exchanging a look with the two women on her team, "Betsy, come here, sweetie."

The girl ran over to her godmother and listened intently as Jackie bent to whisper in her ear. To Hyde's concern, his goddaughter's little legs began to jump up and down in excitement.

"Oh yes, I can do that!" she said, scurrying over to Fez and tugging on a leg of his tightly fitted jeans.

"Unca Fez, lift me up!" she told him.

He obliged and shortly found his white shirt on the ground.

"Uh, that's...not what he meant," Kelso said.

"Alright!" Jackie said, giving Betsy a high-five for a job well done, "shirts versus skins it is. Boys, shirts off!"

Hyde grimaced and removed his shirt, with Eric following suit. Only Kelso seemed to enjoy the change in plan as he flexed his bare muscles at his wife, who responded with a laugh and a shake of her head.

"Huddle up!" he said, glancing over at the girls getting into their own corner before joining the men with their heads already together in planning mode.

"Okay, listen up, men. I refuse to lose to all three of those women - my cousin, my ex and Laurie. So your asses better win this," Hyde said.

"I wish Eric was on the other team," Kelso said.

"Hey!" the man in question replied.

"Forman should be fine, man," Hyde responded, defending his friend, "he won't have Donna to tackle him down."

"Hey!" Eric repeated.

"He isn't incorrect," Fez explained, "it is not that you're terrible at basketball, but Donna can easily whoop you."

"I know," Eric smirked, "that's why I married her."

"And break!" Hyde said, annoyed that both of his friends talked so openingly about their consistent sex life when his was currently non-existent.

True, they'd also spoken about it as teenagers, but his sex life was great back then and left little to be desired.

Somehow he'd arrived at a point in his life when even Fez was getting more than him.

"Come on, Jackie!" Brooke called, "let's see one of your spectacular one-handed three-pointers!"

"Let's go, Lia!" Donna said, getting into the competitive spirit.

"Go Aunt Lawie!" Betsy added, quickly tacking on an "and Daddy, Goddad, Unca Ewic and Unca Fez!" when she noticed the four astonished faces turned in her direction.

"Betsy, you're playing the field!" Kelso called to his daughter, his tone thick with annoyance as he got into formation.

"I not paying anything, Daddy," Betsy said, "and neither awe you, so get going!"

Hyde dribbled the ball, faked left and threw a backhanded pass to Kelso when his cousin tried to steal. The man caught it easily enough, before Laurie swiped it out of his hands, sailing the ball over to Jackie. Holding the basketball firmly, the petite woman dodged past Eric, threw the ball upward and grinned as it swished smoothly into the basket.

"Yes!" Brooke said, "that's my girl!"

"Didn't see that coming, did ya, boys?" Jackie smirked, peering especially at Hyde.

"Whatever, man. You got lucky," he replied, handing the ball to Kelso to resume the game.

This time, it was Laurie who gloated as she made a basket.

"Guys, come on! We're losing to chicks!" Kelso whined, "and we'll never live this down if we can't pull through and beat them!"

To everyone's surprise, Eric made the next shot, with Ade scoring shortly after. A basket from Hyde, a basket from Kelso and then another basket from Jackie before Hyde found himself standing in front of the brunette.

"Can't get past me, Burkhart," he said, traversing swiftly to block his ex-girlfriend from catching the ball.

"Did you just call me Burkhart?" she asked, one eyebrow raising in surprise.

"That's what you do in basketball," he shrugged, "you ever hear someone on offense call someone on defense by their first name? No? Because you use last names in sports."

"Well in that case, _Hyde_ , good luck trying to stop me!" she said, leaping in the air to catch the ball Laurie threw in her direction.

"Not so fast," he said, grabbing her waist from behind.

"Hey! That's a foul!" Jackie called, wriggling in his arms as she tried to hold onto the basketball.

"Quit movin'," he said.

"Then let me go!"

"Hyde, man, over here!" Kelso said, watching as Hyde managed to pry the ball out of Jackie's grasp, "I've got a perfect shot!"

Hyde tossed the ball to Kelso and eased his grip on the brunette.

"That's not how you play basketball!" Jackie said, kicking him in the shin before she was completely freed from his arms.

"Dammit!" he said, bending down to soothe his scalding leg.

"Watch out for the ball!" Eric called.

It landed only a few feet away, directly nearby the porch. After a moment's hesitation, Jackie looked at Hyde and then dove for the ball, in sync with his decision to do the same.

"It's mine!" came her stifled voice as she lay face down in the grass and held the ball tightly against her chest.

"No, it's mine," he said, turning her over so that the ball was nearly in his grasp and her face was mere inches from his.

It was then that the two realized exactly what sort of position their competitiveness had placed them in.

"Uh...it's yours," Hyde said, hurriedly jumping to his feet.

"Yeah...let's continue," Jackie said, glancing at him as she rushed back over to her fellow teammates.

Kelso and Eric shared a glance before turning to Hyde.

"What just happened, man?" Kelso asked.

"Yeah, what were you and the Devil doing?" Eric inquired, gazing down at the grass as if it could tell him the answer.

"Nothing," Hyde said, "we fell. It's no big deal. Let's just play, alright?"

When Mrs. Forman called them in for breakfast, she was greeted with a jubilant trio of women fresh off a winning game and an arguing quartet of men, as Eric swore that Laurie unfairly traveled when he was trying to get the ball out of her grasp. Having seen the encounter from their spot on the lawn chairs, Brooke and Donna defended her by pointing out that Eric didn't stand a chance at the last basket from his position, anyway.

Hyde and Jackie, however, were both silent as they stayed lost in thought.

He wasn't sure about the woman sitting a few feet away, but as he reached for the banana nut muffin Mrs. Forman carefully set in a tray on the table, his mind was filled with the incident in the yard.

And the resolution that he could not let her get that close to him again.


	10. Chapter 10

_ Wow! Thank you so much for all the kudos! I’m thrilled you’re enjoying this as much as my ffners - perhaps more, due to the amount of comments. _

_ On with the show! _

_ xx  _

If there was one thing Pamela Burkhart longed for other than a six-pack and everlasting fortune, it was the approval of her mother.

A vision in scarlet, Mother Winthrop had, in her time, ruled the debutante scene in her hometown of Baton Rouge. Jackie visited her grandmother every other year before the woman’s untimely death and never once saw her in anything that didn’t somehow include an article shaded in scarlet.

It was Pam’s color, as well - likely due in large part to her mother. As a young girl, Jackie would sit and watch her mother prepare for various elite charity functions while her father waited impatiently in the foyer. Pam would always sneak something scarlet - a bracelet, a pendant, a scarf, earrings or whatever else she could think of.

“It is tradition, my darling. We do not break tradition,” Pam explained once when she caught her daughter eyeing the array of scarlet jewelry lying on her vanity.

“But I don’t like scarlet, Mommy. It reminds me of blood,” Jackie shuddered.

“Scarlet is the color of money, my dear. It is the way we do things. My great-grandmother Boutin was born to poor French farmers who sent her away to be a servant to a great English lord. It was there she fell in love with his son. Since Great-Grandmére, my grandmother married wealth. My mother married into an even older and richer bloodline. And I, I too married wealth. Do you understand what I am saying, Jacqueline?”

“That I’m richer than Adaline?” Jackie asked, naming a spoilt girl in her class that often pretended she was related to royalty.

“Yes, but no. I am saying that you, too, will marry wealth, when the time comes.”

“But what if I fall in love with a poor boy?” Jackie inquired, already fancying the idea of living life as a reverse Cinderella at only eight years old.

Pam muttered something under her breath, indecipherable to Jackie’s untrained ear, though she thought she heard the words “did” and “Marcos Aguilar.”

“What was that, Mommy?” she asked.

“I said, you marry someone poor and I will disown you,” Pam said. “I’ll have your father cut you off and you will be as poor as your husband.”

“Mommy!” Jackie said, tears filling her brown eyes at the thought.

“If you must fall in love with a boy of little means, please at least try to get him into a decent career and I might consider still loving you.”

“I promise, Mommy. I will not disappoint you.”

“And you must marry young, like me. It is the only way you can succeed in life. Don’t do anything ridiculous like go to college. If there is not a ring on your finger by high school graduation, you’ve done something wrong and your man doesn’t love you. You will know that he does when he gives you expensive gifts, like your father. If you want Mommy to be proud of you, it’s always about the money.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

Before she met Adam, she’d often wondered if she made the wrong promise. She pushed Michael into dreams that would pay more than an astronaut and scoffed at his desire to be a tech geek. It was her refusal to be seen with anyone so nerdy that effectively shut down any of Michael’s technological prowess, until Brooke coaxed it back years later. He’d buried it so deep that he convinced himself math was not his thing, when they all knew better.

Of course, she’d also gone from star student to failing her exams just so he wouldn’t feel emasculated.

She’d apologized, once, on a weekend when she was still in Madison. She was staying at the place Michael recently persuaded his girlfriend to move into, preparing to watch her goddaughter so that the lovebirds could have a night out. Jackie observed as Betsy played with a calculator, an oddity that could only come from being the child of both Brooke Rockwell and Michael Kelso.

“Y’know, Michael. I never did tell you I was wrong to make you feel insecure about your math skills. So, I’m sorry,” she said.

His jaw stayed open for a good ten seconds before he brushed off the apology and told her he would lack the confidence regardless of what she said.

But, when it came to Steven, she wasn’t sorry. If the future he planned for himself panned out, he would currently be in the slammer with some bandana-styled freak named Billy Bob. She pushed him because there was so much more potential for his life than he realized. She wouldn’t apologize for that.

Maybe the ultimatum went a bit too far, but she needed to know that he saw her as a permanent staple in his life. She needed the certainty that he wouldn’t toss her aside for the first hot nurse he met, just because he’d seen her look at Michael the wrong way.

She’d gotten her answer, not with a nurse, but by the entrance of a stripper fresh off the Vegas stage.

Oh, pardon her, an _exotic dancer_.

He never cared about her at all. At least, not the way she did him.

But Adam already aspired to great things. Rather than force him into situations he wasn’t comfortable with, she encouraged him in dreams he’d always pursued.

It was different with him.

Adam Han helped her grow up.

She glanced down at her scarlet swing dress, twirling to see the way her skirt floated in the floor-length mirror. In her current outfit, it was easy to imagine herself as a 50s housewife out on the town with her husband. All she needed to complete the look was a coat of bright red lipstick.

Jackie carefully applied her makeup, her eyes zeroing in on the groaning figure displayed in the center of the floor-length mirror.

“I look like a blueberry,” Ade said from her spot near the closet.

“Please. In that case, we all wish we could look like blueberries,” Jackie replied. “You look amazing. And I don’t usually tell people that, so you can assume I’m right.”

“I don’t understand why I have to wear this color. Or this style,” the older girl sighed, holding out a piece of her own swing dress.

“Mr. and Mrs. Forman met at a USO dance and since it’s their anniversary, Eric thought it would be nice for us girls to dress in the color of the US flag. His ideas are usually pretty stupid, but this one I found kind of sweet,” Jackie replied.

“But you’re wearing scarlet, not red,” Ade pointed out.

The words of Jackie’s mother echoed as she responded. “Scarlet’s better. Red is bland.”

“Isn’t red a color that symbolizes luck and good fortune in China?”

“Maybe. But it means passion in Korean culture, basically borders on social impropriety and signifies death. To them, red is a very unlucky color. I doubt Mrs. Forman wants that at her anniversary.”

“Really? How do you know that?” Ade asked.

“My ex-boyfriend told me,” Jackie shrugged. “He also said there are some Koreans that choose to believe red is a powerful color that wards off evil spirits, so I guess that’s also an option. Anyway, I wear red a lot already. Scarlet I save for special occasions.”

“Okay, I get that. What I don’t get is why I have to wear blue.”

“Because Brooke’s wearing white and since I chose scarlet, blue is left,” Jackie answered, dismissively.

“She can’t wear it?”

“No way. Blue is not her color. I know it; she knows it. Brooke has a beautiful natural tan that makes her look washed out in blue.”

“Donna?”

“She barely looks good in anything. Donna can pull off certain shades of blue, but they’re more of the lighter variety. Red clashes with her red hair, but don’t remind her, or she’ll go back to that awful blonde. And white - let’s just say she has this teal swing dress planned out that makes her look almost pretty.”

Ade sighed.

“I look fantastic in white, though,” she said.

“Just as you look gorgeous in this blue,” Jackie said. “I don’t doubt you’d look great in every color. That’s the second compliment I’ve given you in less than an hour, so you have to believe it. I don’t hand these out easily, you know.”

“Me, I can pull off every color,” she added, her voice thick with confidence.

“Even chartreuse?” Ade asked.

“Even chartreuse,” Jackie confirmed with a nod.

“Damn. That takes serious genes.”

“I know. I have yet to meet a color I wasn’t born to wear. If only Donna looked half as good as I do, in everything I try on.”

“Hey, you better not be talking badly about Donna,” Brooke said, entering the room that used to belong to the redhead and was currently occupied by its former tenant and the cousin of Jackie’s ex-boyfriend.

“Of course not!” Jackie said, dragging out the second word. “I can’t believe you would accuse your own best friend of such a thing!”

“Making fun of her appearance is talking badly about her,” Brooke said without a moment’s hesitation.

“Damn. Well yeah, I was doing that,” Jackie said, not at all surprised that the person who knew her better than any of them easily figured out her conversation. “But you’ve got to admit most colors aren’t good to her. Maybe she should dye her hair black, like mine. Then she could vary up her wardrobe more. She should start by wearing less flannel.”

“I like her red hair. You imagine her wearing flannel much more often than she actually does,” Brooke said. “Be nice.”

“Yeah, I don’t really want a second black-haired girl in the group. I mean, except you, Adaliah. But you’re WB’s niece and we like him, so that’s an automatic in for you, black hair and all. And of course you’re also Angie’s best friend and any friend of hers is probably a friend of mine.”

“And Hyde’s cousin,” Brooke added.

“Right...yeah. Steven’s cousin.”

“Speaking of Hyde,” Ade said, “what happened with you guys earlier?”

“What do you mean?” Jackie asked. “Nothing happened.”

“Really? Because from where I was standing, it looked like you both fell and then my cousin caught you with his bare chest.”

“Shirts versus skins is stupid. This is why co-ed games should always be shirts versus shirts. The boys just wanted to get us in our bras. They’re so immature,” Jackie said with a scowl.

“I think you liked it,” Brooke said, her lips curving into a small smile.

“What? Why would I like it?”

“You’re rambling. You ramble when you’re trying to hide something.”

“What are you talking about? I always ramble.”

“True, but about hair and makeup and things of that nature. Like when we go to the mall and I try on a pair of shoes that you hate so then you start  talking incessantly about how much you abhor them.”

“Why would you want to wear platforms? You’re already a freaking giant! One inch taller and you’d be the same as the Lumberjack,” Jackie responded.

She glanced at Ade.

“How tall are you?” she asked.

“5’6”,” the other girl responded.

“Damn. Everyone’s taller than me. Mrs. Forman is the only one that isn’t.”

“See how she diverted the conversation away from the inquiry at hand?” Brooke asked, her gaze focused directly on Ade.

“I do see that. So, Jackie, if nothing happened between you and my cousin today, then why are you avoiding the question?”

“Oh, look at that!” Jackie said brusquely, “time for us to go! Adaliah, don’t worry; you look divine. Brooke, hold on, I have a gold necklace that would go perfectly with that dress -”

As she talked and successfully prevented further discussion of the earlier incident with Steven, she noticed Brooke and Adaliah exchange a look and a knowing smile.

They were wrong. There wasn’t any particular reason that she changed topics. She just didn’t want to mention Steven.

It didn’t have any correlation to what happened that afternoon.

A short time later, the women stood in the Formans’ driveway as Red discussed travel arrangements. This bit of dialogue normally belonged to his wife, but he was presently trying to keep her in the house for as long as possible so that his surprise would stay under wraps.

“Jackie, Lia and Steven can come with us. Kelso, Brooke, Eric and Donna go with Bob. Fez and Laurie - on second thought, Fez go with Bob. Eric and Donna, you’re with Laurie. Okay, that should be everyone.”

“Wait a second,” Jackie said, her expression akin to that of someone who just emerged from a horror flick and was already certain they would be unable to sleep for a week, “I can’t be in the car with Steven.”

Red sighed.

“And this is why Kitty figures this stuff out,” he said.

“Okay, Jackie, why can’t you sit in the same vehicle as Steven?” he asked.

“Yeah, Jackie. You afraid of me, or something?” Hyde asked.

She had to admit that he looked rather nice in his suit.

He still cleaned up well.

“Please,” she scoffed, “I have no reason to fear you, or your suggestions about me and the milkman.”

He blanched.

“C’mon, that’s ancient history! And it was one time.”

“Mr. Forman, is three years ago considered ‘ancient history’?” Jackie asked, looking straight at Steven.

He met her gaze with a frown.

“Well, no, three years doesn’t normally fall under the category of ancient history -” Red started.

“Ha!” Jackie said, shooting a triumphant look in Hyde’s direction.

He glowered.

“Jackie, you shouldn’t have any issue being near my cousin if nothing happened earlier, as you said,” Ade told her.

She scowled.

“What’s she talkin’ about?” Hyde asked.

“Nothing!” Jackie said.

“As I was saying before I was very rudely interrupted,” Red continued with a scowl of his own, “while three years is not ancient history, we started, battled and won the Korean War in that same time frame. So Jackie, you’re coming with us and Steven, you are too, and if either of you fight about it, I’m sticking my foot so far up both of your asses that Jackie won’t be able to sit on a plane.”

If it was a choice between travelling in a different vehicle and not returning to California, or sharing a ride with Steven and going back to California, she knew her decision.

“Fine,” she said. “But I don’t understand why Eric can’t go, instead.”

“Because I’m not going to sit and listen to him talk about Luca Searunner the entire way to Kenosha,” Red replied.

“Luke Skywalker! Skywalker!” Eric said. “Honestly, Dad, you’d think you would know that by now.”

“Remember when he refused to discuss _Star Wars_? That was so nice, while it lasted,” Donna said, wistfully.

“The year was 1980. In a galaxy far, far away, Luke Skywalker discovered he had a sister - Princess Leia Organa. During this time, Leia professed her love for one Han Solo, and he to her, which means I was right and Eric was wrong,” Kelso said, grinning.

“Guys! We don’t mention that grievous error! Clearly, this was all a plot by Darth Vader to destroy Luke and Leia. They better do a third movie to rectify the situation,” Eric said, his hands moving quickly through the air.

“They’ll do a third movie, man. Gotta milk the people for all their worth. The franchise is here to stay. They’ll probably be bought by Disney one day and added to its theme park. But pretty sure the sibling thing’s gonna stick,” Hyde said.

“Hey, Eric, you ever thought about hooking up with your sister? I mean, since you always imagined Donna as Leia and you as Luke,” Kelso said.

“Kelso! Shut up,” Red said, “You’re all a bunch of dorks.”

“It’s a lie, I tell you! A lie!” Eric said.

“Nerd,” Jackie told him.

She watched as Red seemed to do a mental headcount.

“Kelso! Where’s your wife?” he asked.

“Inside. She’s checking to make sure Jolene knows Betsy’s nightly schedule,” Kelso responded.

Jolene Crowder was one of those rare teenagers that Jackie knew Red actually liked. She lived in the house on the back side of his and always kept her music at a medium decibel. She was a straight-A student, the star of the Point Place High women’s basketball team, had a thing for cars and even knew how to score a touchdown.

On the occasional days that she wasn’t at practice or viola lessons, she’d come help him in the muffler shop. His customers loved her.

Jackie was certain that if Red had another daughter instead of Eric, he’d want her to be like Jolene.

Hell, he’d already made it clear that he wished Eric was more like Jolene.

“She’ll be fine. Jolene’s babysat a lot of kids. None of their parents have ever had any complaints. Tell Mrs. Rockwell to hurry up,” Red said.

“Mrs. Kelso!” her husband corrected.

“You mean, you’re Mr. Rockwell,” Hyde teased.

“We’re the Kelsos!” he reiterated.

“Oh yeah, that’s right. I forgot, what with your daughter’s two last names. Tell Mrs. Kelso to get out here before Kitty figures out the dress theme,” Red said.

Annoyed about being referred to incorrectly, Kelso left to retrieve his wife.

“Everyone else, in the cars, now,” Red said.

Jackie looked forlornly at Laurie’s car, where Eric and Donna quickly got in. She turned her gaze to Bob’s, watching as Fez called shotgun and Michael helped his wife into the back the minute he returned.

She noticed Brooke mouth an apology when their gazes connected for a brief moment.

Both cars were on their way to Kenosha by the time Kitty emerged from the house.

“Oh, Jackie, don’t you look lovely! I always knew a swing dress would be perfect for your figure. I can easily picture you in the ‘50s. Lia, dear, you’re already very beautiful, but I do love that dress on you. And you’re both wearing swing dresses! That reminds me of when my girlfriends and I would go out dancing, like when Red -”

“Kitty, come on, we have to get going. The others are going to beat us to the hotel,” her husband cut in.

“Yes, yes,” she replied, “I’m all ready. And Steven’s wearing a suit!” she added, clapping her hands in delight as she took her seat.

“Okay, how do we wanna do this?” Hyde said, glancing at the backseat.

“Well, I like the window,” Ade said.

“No way. I give you the window, Steven sits by me. I’ll take the window, you’re in the middle and Steven is next to you by the other window,” Jackie instructed.

“Works for me,” Hyde shrugged.

“Get a move on!” Red called, honking his horn.

The three scurried into the back, arranging themselves in the agreed order.

“How was the ride?” Brooke asked when they were all outside the hotel.

“Terrible,” Ade said, “these two didn’t talk the whole way here.”

“It was very pleasant,” Red said, “Sinatra was on the radio and Kitty and I could pretend it was just us in the car, even with the three twentysomethings in the back.”

“Ah. Now you know what it was like on the road from Iowa,” Brooke said, linking one arm through Ade’s as Kelso took his wife’s other one.

“Hey!” Jackie said, “I thought we were gonna go in together.”

“Sorry, honey. I’m feeling a bit dizzy and Ade can steady me better. Why don’t you walk in with Hyde?” Brooke said.

“Oh, screw that. Come on, Donna,” Jackie said, trying her best to drag along the much taller and heavier redhead.

“Guess we’re escorting Jackie,” Donna told her husband as she grabbed his hand.

“Yay,” Eric replied, sarcastically.

“Then I suppose you’re with us,” Jackie overheard Fez tell Steven.

“Man, I’m nobody’s pity project,” he replied, “I can fly solo.”

“Hey there, hi there, ho there! Cheryl, I know you can see me!”

Jackie walked into the hotel ballroom with Donna and Eric, surveying the setup. It wasn’t the way she would decorate for her future anniversary, but it did fit the Formans’ style perfectly.

The moment they stepped into the room, the crisp 1982 evening was transformed into a ‘50s dance straight out of those old war movies Mr. Forman liked to watch. US American flag bunting lined the walls. The tables were draped in red tablecloths, with blue runners accentuating the vases of white carnations. A jukebox sat in the corner, currently silent while the live band played on stage. Bing Crosby’s _Swinging on a Star_ floated through the room. It was the only thing that didn’t fit with the theme of the evening, due to Red’s preference for ‘40s music over ‘50s.

Best of all, the open bar was serving Manhattans.

“I’ll take a Manhattan,” Jackie told the bartender.

“Excellent choice,” he winked. “Guy trouble?”

“I just sat in a car with my ex-boyfriend,” she informed him.

“Ah, I understand. I hope your evening improves,” he responded, handing her the drink.

“Since when do you drink Manhattans?” Brooke asked, coming over to her.

“Since my best friend ditched me and tried to make my ex-boyfriend accompany me inside,” Jackie said haughtily.

“Oh, calm down. I didn’t ditch you. I would have gladly gone in with you if I didn’t feel like I was going to topple over any second,” her best friend replied.

Jackie looked Brooke over and immediately became concerned.

“Yeah, you don’t look so good. Are you sure you wanna be here?”

“Of course. This is the Formans’ special night and I’m not going to ruin it for them. I’ll be fine as soon as I can sit down,” Brooke responded.

Jackie was skeptical.

“What if you go into labor?” she asked.

“That’s not going to happen. I’ve still got a couple months,” her friend replied, allowing Jackie to help her to a chair.

“I’ll make Michael get you some water. You stay here,” she said.

“Michael!” she screamed.

“What?” he said, by their side instantaneously.

“Get your wife some water. She doesn’t feel well.”

“Babe! I asked you before we left if you were okay and you said you were!” Kelso said.

His concern was palpable.

“I’m fine. I just need a moment,” Brooke assured him.

“But what if you go into labor?” he asked.

“That’s what I said!” Jackie told him.

“Really, you two, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m just going to sit down for a bit.”

“Okay, I’ll get you a glass of water and stay with you until you feel better,” Kelso said, running over to the refreshment table so quickly that he almost tripped on the jukebox cord.

“I’m staying, too,” Jackie said, taking a seat by the brunette.

“No you aren’t,” Brooke said, “I better see you on that dance floor.”

“Hey, what’s going on?” Hyde asked as he joined them.

“Nothing. I’m just resting for a minute,” Brooke said.

“I wanna dance,” Ade said, following behind Hyde. “Hey, Hyde, you should dance with Jackie.”

He glared at her.

“Actually, I was about to ask the fair Jacqueline to dance,” said a voice behind them.

They all turned to look at the new arrival.

“Desmond Sigurdson,” Hyde said, a look of contempt resting upon his features.

“Steven Hyde,” Desmond replied, cocking his head, “I’m surprised there isn’t a beer attached to your hand.”

“Gave it up,” Hyde replied, tersely.

“Good for you,” Desmond replied. “Alcohol can be poison. Only people that are able to drink moderately, such as myself, should partake.”

Hyde gifted him with a withering stare.

“What say you, dear Jacqueline? Dance with me?” Desmond repeated.

The thought of dancing with someone as attractive as Eric’s older cousin did appeal to her. There was also the thought that the others would keep trying to pair her up with Steven if she didn’t accept Desmond’s invitation.

That was something she would avoid at all costs.

“I’d love to,” she said, letting Desmond take her hand. “Brooke, you will let me know if something happens, won’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” her friend responded. “Go have fun.”

She caught Steven’s hostile stare as Desmond led her onto the dance floor.

But it was unclear whether his look was because of her, or because of her dance partner.

“So, Jacqueline, what have you been up to since the last time I saw you? I believe you were six and your family had just moved into the area,” Desmond said.

“Oh, you know, the usual. Got dumped a few times, did the dumping a few times, graduated high school, had a talk show, was assistant to Christine St. George, got fired, swept up hair at a salon, got my life together, went to UW, transferred to UCLA and now I intern for Gloria Monty. Oh, and I’m a godmother. What about you?”

“Well, I graduated top of my class from Duke, moved to Atlanta, invested my money into a burgeoning little media company called CNN and now work for Coleco.”

Attractive, wealthy and intelligent. Desmond was exactly the kind of man her mother would approve of - the kind of man Jackie used to try to mold her ex-boyfriends into to appease Pam.

It wasn’t until she was older that she realized nothing she ever did would please her mother, short of becoming royalty.

Even then, Pam would find something to complain about.

“That’s wonderful. What kind of music do you like?” she asked.

“Classical, mostly. I do enjoy a good Vivaldi in the evening with a nice glass of wine,” Desmond replied.

Her mother would approve. She, on the other hand, found him dull.

“Led Zeppelin? The Stones? Journey?”

The latter was Adam’s favorite.

“No, I don’t listen to rock. I’ll occasionally pull out a more modern album, like Benny Goodman, but I mostly stick to classical.

“Oh,” Jackie said, almost sympathetically.

His music taste left much to be desired, but there was more to a person than just music.

“What kind of movies do you like?” she asked at an attempt to salvage the conversation.

“ _Citizen Kane_ is pure poetry and I do love _Carousel_. Charlie Chaplin is my hero,” he replied as they danced.

“What about _Grease_?” she inquired.

“That movie is ridiculous. The songs aren’t even good,” he answered.

Well, there was no rescuing the conversation after that blatant lie.

Just as she was about to politely excuse herself and return to her friends’ much more reasonable tastes, she felt his hand move to an area that unquestionably fell below her lower back.

Gordon MacRae would not approve.

Jackie redirected Desmond’s hand so that it lay on the nape of her neck.

In only a few minutes’ time, she felt it land back on the spot it was in previously.

Just as she was about to push him off of her, she felt someone jerk him away.

“Hey, you okay?” Hyde asked, holding Desmond by the back of his shirt collar.

“I’m fine,” Jackie replied, for once grateful to see her ex.

“I believe I was dancing with the lady -” Desmond began.

“And now she bids you adieu. Farewell,” Hyde said, gesturing for him to get lost.

“I would take this in the parking lot if we weren’t at Aunt Kitty’s party. You should count yourself lucky,” Desmond said, whipping out his suit jacket before relocating to the punch bowl.

“I never liked that guy,” Hyde said, so low that Jackie almost didn’t hear.

“Why not?” she asked.

“He used to sit on Forman’s head when we were kids, even though he was about 40 pounds heavier than him.”

“Poor Eric,” Jackie said, shaking her head. “And if you tell him I said that, I’ll deny it and then slaughter you.”

Hyde smirked.

“Got it.”

“Well, I guess that’s it for dancing tonight,” Jackie said, suddenly upset at the idea.

“Or, y’know, we could dance,” Hyde said, nonchalantly.

Jackie narrowed her eyes at him.

“You hate to dance.”

“Yeah, but you don’t. Just think of it like prom night, okay? You’re alone. I’m alone.”

“So let’s be alone together,” she murmured.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “I suppose it would get the others off our backs.”

“And keep Sigurdson’s hand off your ass,” he added helpfully.

“Did you really have to bring that up?” she groaned.

“Sorry, doll,” he grinned.

“Okay, fine. One dance. But under one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t call me doll.”

He chuckled.

“Yes, ma’am.”

The band struck up a new song as she allowed Steven to pull her into his arms. Perhaps coincidentally, the slow, dulcet tones of Bing Crosby’s _It’s Been a Long, Long Time_ began to play as they danced.

Coincidentally her ass.

“I was plannin’ to avoid you tonight,” Hyde confessed, moving her slowly to the music.

“I was hoping for that, too,” she said. “What changed your mind?”

“Sigurdson.”

“Well, I do appreciate you breaking that up. He doesn’t even like Zeppelin and he thinks _Grease_ is stupid. All he listens to is classical, or stuff from the 1920s.”

“I thought you always wanted a man who was a classical pianist.”

“Not anymore. That’s boring. I like a guy with good taste in music. Like Adam with his Journey.”

“Your ex likes Journey?”

“Likes? His sister told me he’s thinking about coming to LA in July just so he can see them perform in the Rose Bowl.”

“Looks like me and Adam Han have some things in common, after all.”

“Cutting in like that with Desmond is exactly something he would do if he thought I were uncomfortable.”

“What can I say? I’m used to protecting you from assholes. Old habits die hard.”

“Oh, really?” she asked. “And who protected me from you when you were an asshole three years ago, telling me to sleep with the milkman and throwing your fake wife in my face?”

He sighed.

“Jackie -”

“Red! I can’t believe you did all this for me! Oh, you are the sweetest man!”

Jackie’s gaze fell on Kitty, who was shouting excitedly.

The matronly woman’s eyes darted around the room before she gifted her husband with a kiss.

“I guess Mrs. Forman figured out Mr. Forman’s surprise,” she said.

It was Red’s idea for the female attendees to all dress in the fashion of the 1950s. In addition to the swing dresses the girls wore, there was also an abundance of slim sheath dresses, tailored suits, pencil skirts with Peten pan collar blouses and polka dots. Teenage guests were donned in polo shirts with poodle skirts.

The men all wore suits, primarily because Red refused to put on his old outfit that he said made him look like a “damn sailor.”

She swore that he almost blushed.

“Jackie, can we -” Hyde began again.

“It’s time to eat! We will resume the dance later,” said the band member currently holding a microphone on the stage. “And we hear there’s some good grub, so you better get to it before it’s all gone.”

“Thank god! I’m starving!” they heard Kelso say.

“Didn’t he just eat a hamburger at the Formans’ a few hours ago?” Jackie asked.

“You know him. Never satisfied,” Hyde replied.

“Thanks for saving me from Desmond. I’m gonna go get food now,” she told him.

“Jackie, I really think we need to -”

“Jackie! Let’s go before Kelso eats everything!” Donna said as she appeared and grabbed Jackie’s hand.

“I’m coming!” she replied, looking over her shoulder to see Eric and Steven whispering in hushed tones.

She wondered what they were talking about.

“Michael! You better be getting your wife some food, too!” Jackie said.

“I am! Damn, Jackie! Don’t yell in my ear!”

The evening hadn’t gone as imagined, but now that Desmond was keeping his distance, maybe she could return to her earlier plan of avoiding Steven.

And he could return to his.

It never hurt to try, anyway.

  
  



	11. Chapter 11

_As always, thank you for all the kudos, comments, faves and hits._

XX

When he was a kid, he liked to look up at the stars.

It was comforting to imagine there was something up there in space, that the vast universe might have hundreds of parallel worlds science would never discover. Maybe one of those worlds contained an alternate version of him, a little boy who didn’t have shitty parents leave him at the mall because they were drunk.

That kid lived in a nice home, probably in the suburbs because it seemed the pinnacle of a normal childhood. He was the oldest of three siblings. His mom, president of the PTA, crafted brownies so legendary that they won first place in the local 4-H fairs. His dad was even cooler, spending weekdays as the manager for parallel Led Zeppelin and the weekends coaching his Little League team. 

They drank casually. The gin came out once a month as they played cards with their friends. Rum was even more occasional. Both hated the taste of beer.

And oh, did they love him.

As he grew older, Hyde looked less at the stars and more at the ground. The cracks streaked across the cement were the perfect metaphor for his life. He was cracked, but not broken. His parents caused some major damage, but he didn’t have to let their mistakes control him. And when he did get in trouble, well, there was always something for him to stare at that matched his mood.

By his adolescence, the sidewalk was submerged in a haze, the cracks transformed into gaping landfills that would swallow him whole if he granted permission.

Instead of the streets, he began to focus on the grass. It became his life, even more so when his friends slowly decided to join in on his newfound love.

He all but forgot about his former fascination with the skies, though it was never quite to the extent of Forman’s, until the evening he kissed Jackie while they were sitting on the Camino. 

That was the night he saw the stars again.

And now, standing on the balcony of the Kenosha Hotel as he tried to calm the various emotions coursing through his veins, they were more prominent than ever.

There was a chill in the air, a nice shock to his system that could help distract him from his unbidden thoughts. The thing was, he didn’t have feelings for her anymore. It wasn’t a lie he told himself, regardless of whatever the members of his family believed; he genuinely didn’t feel that way about his ex. And she’d made it more than clear that the feeling was mutual.

Yet, something about the way she felt in his arms, how their hips swayed together, her laugh as he did his best to swing her away from Sigurdson - something about that just didn’t settle well.

And it wasn’t lost on him what people were trying to do. All his friends just happened to have other escorts so that he and Jackie would be the only ones alone?

Bullshit.

He got enough of this shit from Ade and Angie. He didn’t need it from the rest of them. If they kept it up, these next couple of weeks until she returned to California would be nightmarish.

And he, for one, was counting down the days until she did.

“What idiot comes outside in this temperature without his coat?” 

“It’s not that cold,” Hyde replied, though both he and the man now standing next to him knew it was a lie.

“We’ll see about that when you end up in the hospital with pneumonia,” Red said. 

“Isn’t that a bit extreme?”

“I’m just saying what Kitty would if she saw you out here. I thought you agreed to keep an eye on Jackie.”

“I did, man. She brought up a bunch of old crap and it got awkward real fast.”

“Look, Steven. I don’t care what happens - or doesn’t happen - between you and Jackie. Be together, don’t be together; it doesn’t matter to me,” Red said, flicking a dead bug off the balcony railing, “what I do care about is that my creepy nephew keep his womanizing hands off that girl. You make sure Desmond stays far away from her, even if it means another dance number.”

“Alright,” Hyde consented, “but I’m only doing it because you asked, not because of her. Just saying, y’know, for the record.”

“Right,” Red replied.

“But you couldn’t enlist anyone else to be Jackie’s bodyguard?”

The Korean veteran laughed scornfully.

“Who? That Wonka kid is flirting with half the room. Kelso is focused on his wife. Eric couldn’t push away Desmond if his life depended on it. I still live with the shame of knowing how many times we pulled those two apart. It’s either you or me. Kitty requested that I don’t do anything to ruin her night. That leaves you to ruin his.”

“Maybe Jackie can take care of herself,” Hyde said, watching as his breath formed little circles in the night sky. 

Shit, he was freezing.

“She can,” Red agreed, “but watching you tell off Desmond is much more entertaining.”

“He’s a tool. We know that and now she does. I don’t think another dance number is necessary.”

“Gotta say, though, it was hilarious watching you try,” his surrogate father commented.

“I’m so glad my state of utter annoyance pleased you so,” Hyde said, drily.

“Who are you, Jane Austen?”

“Hey, Jane Austen was well ahead of her time and still continues to receive phenomenal acclaim even long after her death. Hyde should be lucky if he ever sounds like an Austenian character. Do you know how many women pine for Mr. Darcy? Though, personally, I’m more of a Bingley fan, myself. Darcy is far too overrated.”

“Brooke,” Red replied, nodding at the newcomer.

“Hi, Mr. Forman,” she said with a smile. “Mrs. Forman is looking for you.”

He sighed.

“Can’t a man get one moment of peace during a party he doesn’t even want to be at?”

His grumbling faded into silence as he walked away to return to his wife.

“Brooke,” Hyde said, concern immediately distracting him from the regret of leaving his coat in the ballroom, “what are you doing out here? Are you okay?”

His eyes darted to the ground, wondering if it would soon be splattered in a liquid he really didn’t want to see.

“I’m a little better. Michael thought fresh air might be good for me. He wanted to come, but I convinced him to dance with Jackie.”

“Sigurdson giving her trouble?” Hyde asked, the hairs on his forearm bristling.

“No, but he has been watching her for most of the night. I’m sure he’ll try again,” the brunette replied as she tucked her hands into her mauve peacoat.

If he did, Sigurdson would emerge from the party with a lot worse than Chip’s black eye.

Kelso. Chip. That weird cheese guy. Sigurdson. It was almost frustrating the amount of immature men Jackie attracted.

“Thanks for doing that,” Brooke said, “keeping that guy away from her. It’s something Adam would do.”

It was too bad he never met Jackie’s ex-boyfriend. The guy was the first man she fell for who he thought might actually deserve her.

He knew Brooke wasn’t easily pleased. If she liked Adam, he probably would, too.

Desmond Sigurdson was the type of man Jackie envisioned herself marrying. He, however, spent many years attempting to persuade her she could do much better - that she could marry someone like Adam Han.

“Just doin’ it as a favor to the Formans,” Hyde said, brushing off her comment.

“Well, still. I appreciate it. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t stepped in and blocked that vainglorious simpleton from whatever he’d planned on doing with my best friend.”

Hyde stared at her as he mentally calculated the amount of time it would take for his system to shut down from the cold.

“Y’know, I never woulda pictured you and Jackie becoming best friends that day you met us.”

“It was a surprise to me, too,” Brooke said. “I always surrounded myself with the literary crowd. We’d debate Dostoyevsky versus Tolstoy at lunch, and that was in eighth grade.”

“Not exactly Jackie’s thing,” Hyde said.

“Not exactly,” Brooke chuckled. 

“But it happened.”

“Are you trying to ask me how it happened?” she asked.

“If you wanna share,” he replied.

He received the same kind of look he knew she gave Betsy when the girl requested to extend her bedtime for a second chapter of Barrie.

He couldn’t exactly blame her. She probably thought her father and Peter Pan were one in the same.

Hell, Kelso undoubtedly believed it.

“I mean, sure,” he quickly amended.

“Basically, I walked in and found her crying one day.”

He hoped his emotions weren’t currently being broadcasted. He hated to see Jackie cry; even the thought of her doing so was disconcerting.

Dammit. Of course he left his glasses in his goddamn coat pocket.

“Because of me?” he asked, attempting to keep his tone as nonchalant as possible.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not. It was two months after she started dating Fez. Remember when we brought Betsy down for St. Paddy’s?”

“Paddy’s?” Hyde asked.

“My Granda was Irish. Anyway, we thought they looked happy together, but then I had to use the bathroom and heard sobbing in Laurie’s old room. I peeked in and saw Jackie. You were all outside.”

“The weather was great that day,” Hyde nodded.

“Yes, and Mr. Pinciotti was trying unsuccessfully to convince Mr. Forman to let him use the grill.”

“I think you’ve been in the group long enough now that you can call him Bob,” Hyde interjected.

“Right. Bob. So it was just Jackie and I inside and of course I had to hiccup right at that moment. She jumped, saw that it was me and immediately tried to pretend everything was fine.

But I’d heard her. So I asked her what was wrong and she said everything.”

It was the typical Jackie answer, full of exaggerations and melodrama.

But in the early spring of 1980, maybe it wasn’t entirely inaccurate.

“I persuaded her to elaborate. She was trying to figure out why her life was so screwed up. I pointed out it wasn’t that bad; she did have a good relationship and lacked any serious addictions. She said she was with Fez, of all people, and she swept up hair in a salon. I said that was a good job that plenty of people did on a daily basis. She said she knew that, she was talking specifically about her and that I didn’t need to turn this into a lecture about respecting the poor.”

It was exactly the kind of thing he’d expect her to say. 

“So I said, well, if you think your life sucks, do something about it. She said maybe she would. I said if she didn’t, she might stay in that salon. She said over her dead body.”

Everything suddenly made sense - the breakup with Fez at the end of March, her announcement in May that she’d enrolled in Madison’s summer semester. It was finally clear why she decided to leave Wisconsin altogether and start a new chapter in the Golden State after only a semester and a half at UW.

And why she didn’t give him the chance to tell her he never loved Sam.

“You. You’re the reason she changed her life,” Hyde said, the respect he already had for his friend’s other half growing even more.

Brooke Rockwell was able to convince Jackie of going after her own dreams, instead of waiting for them to come to her or seeking out a white knight to fulfill some fantasy fairytale.

It was something he always hoped she’d learn, that her happiness didn’t have to come from a young marriage like her parents.

If that damn ultimatum resulted in the future Jackie wanted, they would be married with a couple of kids by now. UCLA and the cast of that one soap wouldn’t know Jackie Burkhart, but the cops would sure as hell recognize Jackie Hyde every time she bailed him out. He wouldn’t be successful with Fighting the Man, wouldn’t have a sobriety coin stashed in his sock drawer. His nights would be spent in the bar, picking fights to avoid going home and fighting with her.

Marrying young was never in the cards for her, or for him. She was a damn fool to think otherwise.

Jackie Burkhart was always filled with much more potential than either she or Pam Burkhart gave her credit for.

“No, she changed her own life. I just pointed out that she didn’t have to be as miserable,” Brooke insisted.

“If you say so,” Hyde replied, though he wasn’t in the least bit convinced. 

“And then you two hung out when she was at Madison,” he stated.

Brooke nodded.

“She’d come visit on the weekends. It started as a way for her to spend time with Betsy, but as my feelings for Michael grew, it became girl time to help me figure things out. By that point, she and Donna were working on fixing their relationship and she’d keep me updated on that, too. Then when she moved to SoCal and our finances became steadier, we started the new tradition of flying out there twice a year - when we weren’t visiting you, of course.”

Hyde gave a small smile. 

“I appreciate that. It’s been great getting the chance to know Bets,” he said.

“I know you do,” Brooke said, “and Betsy thinks both you and Jackie belong in her Arthurian picture books. She talks about you guys all the time, constantly asks when she can see both her godparents at once. So this trip is very special for her.”

“‘Belong in her Arthurian picture books’?” Hyde asked, laughing.

“Walk on water. Hung the moon. Whatever.”

He became serious.

“Well, she thinks that now.”

He knew Betsy’s face would change the day she grew up and realized who he really was.

“Hey,” Brooke said, placing a soothing hand on his arm, “you’ve changed your life, too. The Steven Hyde I first met only cared about the color black, throwing things at glass and of course his girlfriend. The Steven Hyde standing in front of me is successful, fighting the man with his God-given talents and exchanged booze and weed for AA. I’m proud of you. I probably don’t say it enough.”

He fought to keep his reaction casual.

“Thanks,” he said, cringing at the obvious emotion seeping through the word.

“And you’re still suspicious of the government. Plus, you’re incredibly intellectual and I deeply enjoy our discussions,” she added.

“I mean, an actor from Hollywood is sitting in the Oval Office. How can I not be suspicious of that? The military, corporate and Hollywood have merged into one person,” Hyde said, concerned at the lack of knowledge that won the man the greatest position of power in the known universe.

“Just imagine all the scams he’ll cover up in Tinsel Town. Betsy’s grandkids will be cleaning up that mess,” he continued.

“See, Hyde. This is why I like you. A lot of people, like my darling husband, just focus on the surface, on the face our politicians show during a campaign. But you, you see beyond, into their soul.”

“Alright, Madame Brooklina, I think it’s time to get you back inside.”

He frankly wouldn’t be surprised if his toes decided to part way with his feet during their conversation.

Thankfully, St. Louis was experiencing the same cold snap as Wisconsin; at least, according to his phone call the previous evening with Angie.

She provided him with a quick update on the family. The honeymooners’ flight to Luxembourg was cancelled due to the weather, much to Cassie’s devastation. Both Betty Lou and Devon’s father tried to use their connections to get another flight booked, but there was only so much the wealthy could do when nature stepped in. The trip was rescheduled for the following week. WB found a new band he wanted Hyde to check out when he returned. Angie accepted a date with a woman from her Jujutsu class. He was glad about that; her last few boyfriends were painfully mediocre. Maybe her taste in women would be better.

Meanwhile, Juniper was busy starring on the debate team and volunteering for various activist groups.

Starting ‘em young. He approved.

“Yeah, I suppose we better,” Brooke said, taking his hand. “Come along before you freeze your balls off.”

“Language, Mrs. Rockwell!”

“Honestly, how on earth did you think it was a good idea to stay out here this long in a short-sleeve shirt? And don’t let Michael hear you say that,” she replied, practically dragging him back to the ballroom.

Damn. He’d need to remember to never piss off a pregnant woman. Brooke’s strength clearly increased exponentially since she began growing a second human being.

“It’s common knowledge. You marry Brooke Rockwell, you become a Rockwell. I’m surprised you didn’t keep your last name,” Hyde said.

“I didn’t want anything that belonged to my dad,” Brooke murmured.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she replied. “Ah, Jackie!”

He followed her gaze to see his ex staring at them in apparent curiosity. The emotion was quickly replaced with worry as Jackie took Brooke’s arm.

“Brooke! I thought you’d gone into labor and then died from hypothermia. I swear I was just about to go outside myself and check on you. What took so long?” she exclaimed.

“I’m fine, Jackie. Michael was right. The fresh air did help. We were just talking.”

“Steven Hyde is capable of a full conversation?” Jackie asked, her tone thick with skepticism.

“Hey. I’m standing right here,” Hyde told her, scowling.

“Yeah, I know,” she said. “And now we have to go. Bye!” she added with a wave as she led Brooke back to their table.

Hyde shook his head. He had every intention of keeping his agreement with his surrogate father, but Jackie sure didn’t make it easy.

He returned his glasses to their usual place, his shaded gaze flickering over the crowd and settling on the man in question. He was slow dancing with Kitty, eyes closed so that Red could presumably shut out the rest of the crowd and pretend it was just the two of them. Hyde knew the move well. It was one he himself liked to use on more than one occasion.

Focus on your chick; everyone else would fade away.

He watched as Kelso carefully led Brooke onto the floor for their own dance. His friend ran a hand tenderly along his wife’s side, swaying so slowly that the moment almost resembled a scene in a scratched-up video tape.

He saw Forman’s embarrassing moves as he failed in his attempt to glide Donna across the room and apologized as he clumsily slid.

The son of Red’s younger brother Jerry was dancing with Fez. He’d met him once at a Forman family gathering, Conor something-or-other. His mother’s family was native to Hawaii, where she met Jerry when he flew down to Hilo to aid in the 1960 tsunami cleanup. Shortly after Conor was born, the family moved to Denmark for his father’s job, obtaining their citizenship and choosing to remain in the country.

If he remembered right, Conor was an undergrad in medieval studies at the University of Toronto. He was pretty sure that was what Eric said, anyway.

The one-on-one with Fez ended up with one more when Cheryl’s daughter walked by and allowed the man to persuade her to join them.

Even Laurie was hanging out on the dance floor, chatting up one of the members of the band.

“This is ridiculous. We can’t be the losers in this group.”

He tilted his head to see Jackie standing nearby.

“Didn’t think you’d come back,” he said.

“I didn’t want to,” she replied, “but I refuse to be the only person left out of the fun.”

Hyde’s peripheral vision latched onto the distant Sigurdson as the guy with an inordinately large superiority complex that surpassed even Kelso’s began to walk over.

“Come on!” Jackie said, pushing him toward the others.

“Wait. Now you want to dance with me?” he asked incredulously.

“Like I said. I’m no loser. And no one besides Michael is asking me to dance because they probably think I don’t want to. You’re doing me a favor. I’m sure one of the guys around here will cut in to save me from you. It won’t take long.”

“Well, in that case,” Hyde said, moving onto the slick surface with her.

“Oh thank god!” Jackie said, echoing his own thoughts when the slow Clydine Jackson song ended and a fast-paced Frank Sinatra began.

“I don’t swing dance,” Hyde said, adamantly refusing to cave on that point.

“Don’t worry. I don’t know how,” she confessed.

“Ai, fantástico! I love swing!” they heard Fez say as he geared up to show his moves to Cheryl’s daughter.

Conor excused himself and headed over to Eric and Donna, who did the same.

Kelso escorted Brooke back to the table, where Hyde and Jackie soon joined them.

Many of Kitty’s friends who previously refused to enter the spotlight now flooded the dance floor, dragging their protesting spouses along. The stream continued until various members of the Sinatra generation filled the area, permitting the band to transport them back to the days of their youth.

Only a few of the younger crowd were steadily keeping the pace. Most had retreated to the tables, towards the open bar, or alongside the dessert table, several with the mindset of distracting themselves from what they felt was their parents’ tomfoolery.

Others simply didn’t know how to follow along and instead chose to engage in conversation.

“Hyde! Hello! It is good to see you!” 

“Oh, hey! It’s Conor, right?” Hyde said, clasping the much younger man’s proffered hand.

“You remembered! Yes, this is my cousin, Conor Forman - Uncle Jerry’s kid,” Eric said, beaming.

Jackie looked him over with interest.

“Didn’t I just see you in a feature  _ Aermail  _ put out of the hot new artists in Ontario?” she asked conspiratorially. 

“I thought you were studying medieval stuff,” Eric remarked, looking curiously at the man who only recently entered adulthood.

“I am,” Conor said, “and you did,” he added to Jackie.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need a lot more information,” his older cousin remarked.

“I’m doing my degree in medieval studies, something I’ve been fascinated by ever since Dad took us to visit Tintagel when I was a child. Creating art is a hobby I enjoy on the side,” Conor explained.

“After seeing your work photographed in the magazine, I’m sure you’d have no issue doing it for your career,” Jackie gushed.

Mirth jitterbugged through Conor's mocha brown eyes.

“Thank you,” he said, “but I have no plans to do it for a living. I like doing it for fun.”

Donna tousled his closely cropped hair, tiny black curls falling back into place as quickly as they became disorderly.

“When are you gonna come visit us?” she asked, pretending to be vexed with him.

“Soon,” he replied, “maybe during the summer before I fly to Aalborg.”

Donna sighed wistfully.

“You’re always travelling to somewhere or other,” she said.

“I promised I would not let my new life in university prevent me from missing the annual summer holiday in Skagen,” he said, “and I believe the government’s promises to revive our economy.”

For his sake, Hyde hoped that at least the Danish government would be capable of keeping its word.

The US government definitely lacked in that area.

“You wouldn’t happen to be looking for a companion, would you?” Jackie pressed, clearly itching to jet off to Europe on some luxurious vacation.

Before Hyde could remind her that she’d probably still be in the year-long internship and unlikely to get the time off, Conor gave a polite smile.

“Not unless you carry the XY chromosome,” he said.

“Conor’s gay,” Eric stated as Jackie looked embarrassed at her blunder.

“Forman freak when he found out?” Hyde asked, receiving a withering stare from the man in question.

“Actually, Eric is the first person I came out to. He was very encouraging and supportive,” Conor said.

“As for your question, Jackie, I’m sure my brother would love if you came along,” he hastily added.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Jackie said.

“Well, you can’t blame a girl for trying to score a free trip to Europe,” she murmured to Donna.

Hyde recalled the morning Jackie told him about her only flight outside the country, to the south of France during one of her father’s business trips when she was six. It was a top item on her bucket list to travel abroad again.

Given that Adam now resided in London, it was startling to realize Jackie was not considering the notion of joining him.

Moving to the UK would definitely fulfill the desire, an easy checkmark for the bucket list. There was little effort required to explore the various countries of Europe when one lived there.

It was much more difficult to fly across the pond at a moment’s notice.

“I should be asking when you two will visit Aalborg,” Conor said, looking pointedly at his cousin and then at Donna.

“Trust me,” Eric replied, “if we had the money, we would. I’d love to see Hilo and Kalani again.”

“And I want to finally meet them,” his wife added.

“Yes, and you haven’t even seen Callie yet,” Conor said.

“Oh yeah, how is Calliope doing?” Eric asked. “She’s, what, seven now?”

“She’s brilliant,” he smiled. “She’s the only one of us to have Danish as her first language. No one in our family can match her level of fluency.”

“Calliope?” Jackie asked.

Hyde was fairly certain the name was one she had considered for her hypothetical child, due in large part to its origin with the Greek Muses.

“My mother named my older siblings. My father named my youngest sister and myself,” Conor said as the group heard the band switch over to another slow song. 

“Uncle Jerry’s always been intrigued by Greek mythology and Irish folklore,” Eric told her. “Dad thinks he’s a fool for it.”

“A passion I, too, have picked up,” Conor stated.

“Perhaps I can pick your brain on the subject. I’d be intrigued to hear your thoughts, particularly on the Tuatha Dé Danaan.”

Conor turned to look at the new voice and Jackie beamed.

“This is my best friend, Brooke Kelso,” she said.

“ _ Det glæder mig at træffe Dem _ ,” he replied, placing a gentle kiss on her hand.

Kelso scowled.

“Man, you’re lucky you’re gay,” he said, perturbed by the display.

Brooke looked at her husband disapprovingly before smiling at the younger man.

“I apologize, my Danish is atrocious, but I believe you said it’s a pleasure to meet me, which, in that case, is mutual,” she said.

“You speak Danish?” Jackie asked her, amazed.

“Very, very little,” Brooke said. “My grandfather on my mother’s side was an expert in linguistics and he taught me a few phrases.”

From the expression on Kelso’s face, Hyde knew this must be new information for him.

“I thought you said Seanathair O’Mahony was fluent in Flemish,” he said, perplexed.

“Oh, honey,” Brooke said, cringing, “we’ve got to work on your Irish pronunciation. And yes, he was. Granda spoke many languages.”

Hyde wondered what other brilliant relatives existed in her family.

“That’s correct. I am pleased to meet you and more than delighted to discuss the Tuatha Dé Danaan further,” Conor told the librarian.

“Wonderful!” she replied. “What do you think are the chances of historians unearthing King Nuada’s Sword of Light?”

“Well, I think that -“

“Hey, medieval folklore nerds,” Jackie interjected, “can you wait until the rest of us aren’t near you to hold English class?”

Hyde was unable to prevent his resulting snort.

“She’s just jealous I’ve been to Ireland,” Brooke told the younger Forman.

“It is a beautiful country,” Conor stated. “Where did you go?”

“To counties Cork, Kerry and Clare. Seanathair’s family were from Clare,” she responded.

“They all have gorgeous scenery,” he remarked. “Should you ever return, you must also visit Kilkenny. I believe you would be enamored with its castle, which I am convinced is far too underrated.”

“Next time she goes, she better take me,” Jackie cut in.

“And obviously me,” Kelso added.

Hyde marveled at Conor Forman’s travel experience and pondered the other locations he might have in the pages of his passport.

“You are all welcome to visit me in Toronto,” Conor told the group, “particularly your beautiful friend Fez.”

“Might take you up on that, man,” Hyde responded.

Honestly, no place appealed to him more than Canada. His own bucket list was very short, but it was topped with exploring Banff and the Tablelands.

The only downside was that he could no longer enjoy a Molson without breaking his promise to Kitty, Ade and a good majority of his family.

“And Aalborg,” Conor added, “though I suspect Ontario might be much more accessible.”

“Yeah, gonna have to pass, though I’ve been to Europe a couple times now,” Hyde said.

Jackie looked at him quizzically.

“Business meetings,” he said.

She nodded, but he knew she was baffled that he was now in the kind of position that allowed him to travel overseas.

“Hey guys!” Ade said breathlessly.

Her entrance was so unexpected, it was as if she arrived by teleportation device.

Now, there was something Kelso could set about trying to invent. Teleportation would get them to Toronto, Aalborg and wherever else and still return them in time for dinner.

Hyde mulled the thought over. On second thought, that kind of thing would probably be more Betsy’s domain.

He decided to bring up the idea when she was older.

“I was wondering where you’ve been hiding,” he told his cousin.

She glanced at him unobtrusively, though not before he caught a glimpse of the man slinking away.

He was dressed in a ‘50s-style suit similar to the outfits of the other men. His onyx jacket was only a few shades darker than his appearance, which was accentuated by a goatee and shaved black hair.

“Oh! You were with a guy!” he surmised.

“Maybe,” she said, casually. “If I was, you don’t have to look so alarmed.”

“Man, I don’t wanna hear about my cousin hooking up,” he said with a grimace.

“Relax, Hyde. It was just walking.”

“Aha!” he said, “so something  _ did _ happen!”

Ade’s countenance became stony.

“I neither confirm nor deny that theory,” she said.

“It’s an easy deduction to make. I haven’t seen you since before I stepped outside and that guy was definitely not there a second ago.”

“You went outside?” Ade asked. “God, Hyde, tell me you wore your coat. It’s cold enough for penguins to go fishing in the lake.”

“How would you know that if nothin’ happened?” he asked, avoiding her comment. 

The scoldings from Red and Brooke were enough for one night. She didn’t need to know about his moronic mistake, too.

“Nothing happened, like nothing happened with you and Jackie during the game or that dance,” she said.

He gave her an irritated look.

“Fine. Then nothin’ happened,” he agreed, unable to keep the disbelief out of his voice.

“Who’s that?” she nodded, switching topics.

“That’s Conor Forman, Eric’s cousin,” Hyde said.

“So. We like him? Or is he another Desmond?”

“Nah. Conor’s cool. He invited all of us to Toronto. I’m sure you could score an invite.”

“I’m good. Never had much desire to go to Canada.”

“He’s in college there. He’s from Denmark.”

“Denmark? I’ll gladly accept an invite to Denmark!” she said, moving in the direction of the others.

Brooke and Conor were back on their colloquy about King Nuada and his mythical sword. A relieved Jackie greeted Ade, quickly engaging her in conversation. The younger Formans and the Kelsos were talking softly among themselves, as the older Formans discussed the glory days with Red’s war buddies and the women from Kitty’s high school dance team.

Swinging until he could swing no longer, Fez soon joined them.

Hyde decided it was the perfect time to slip back outside, this time  _ with  _ his coat, when he heard Brooke’s panicked voice cut through the babel.

“I think my water just broke!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
